Day 3: May 15, 2011

My Parents.

My parents are amazing. I want to be them when I grow up. They were married for twenty-four years, and had the most amicable divorce I've ever seen. They raised four kids, and half the neighborhood. They always had an open door policy in our house, our friends were welcome anytime for any reason. I remember them always together on what they wanted to do, what they wanted done. I don't know if it just worked out that way, or if they worked to make it that way, but I remember their unity.

My mom is my hero. She never breaks. She's so strong, so smart, and so capable.  She does more than anyone else I know. She goes longer, does more, and complains less. She is my guiding light. She is everything I aspire to be. Mom, if you read this, I love you.

She is currently raising my nephew Andrew, and is about to adopt him. Her husband is on the road as a truck driver, and she is running the house. She has two of her children living with her, and is regularly overrun with grandchildren. We tease her about needing a whip, a top hat, and a coat with tails to dress the part of ringmaster of our little circus.

She scrapbooks regularly, and until a month ago, she was actually caught up. I don't know any other scrapbooker who has ever been completely caught up. She works full time, and still manages to keep up on the house work, the mundane chores of a household, dishes, laundry, etc. We are helping her out, but sometimes you turn around, and whatever you were about to do is done.

She is beautiful, inside and out.

My dad is a rock. He is always there for me, I think sometimes even when he's not sure he wants to be. He has had many challenges in his life, and overcome so much. He cared for his mother, my grandmother, the last year of her life, and then continued to care for his stepfather, my grandfather, until he too passed.

I don't want to get to much into other people's lives and stories here, especially without permission, but his struggle with alcohol and his recovery is not a secret. He is living in Arizona. He has been with a new lady for a while. I've met her, and she is so nice, and amazing. I'm glad my dad found someone to be with. He loves me, believes in me, trusts me.

One of my favorite family stories is a time just after high school. My friend Julie was leaving for college, and her family had property on a nearby lake. She was having this big going away party out there. I went when I got off work and was only there for a little while when someone yelled, "The cops are coming." I hadn't been drinking, but I was underage, so I decided to take a walk along the beach. A couple of other people went with me, and we found a log and sat near the water, tossing little rocks in and talking. After the cops left,  I found Julie, wished her well at college, and went home. I found out the next day the cops had run the license plates of every car on the road. If it wasn't registered to someone who lived on the road, they called the person it was registered to. My car was in my dad's name at the time. When I was sitting on a log, the cops were calling my dad! They told him,"Sir, a car registered to you is parked out at the lake where we suspect there was underage drinking going on."
He asked them, "Is the car parked legally?"
They replied, "Well, yes."
And he said, "I'm going back to sleep."

I told him the next day that I had been out to a party at the lake to say goodbye to my friend, and there had been drinking there, and that I hadn't had anything to drink. He totally shocked me when he said, "I know."

I didn't know the cops called him. I didn't know how he knew. But I was glad he trusted me, and believed me when I told him I hadn't been drinking. Dad, if you ever read this, I love you. Thank you for everything you have done for me, everything you have taught me, and every time you have trusted me.