1/8/15

My Parents Are Here . . .

On Tuesday night, for the first time in four years (to the day) the westward wind blew the two finest people in the history of my life (and I've met all of the living US Presidents (save the current) and Dr. Drew Pinsky as well as Larry the Cable Guy in this lifetime) blew into Kansas.

That's right - THE Amores (of Groton) are in town. Lock your doors, board your windows, and avoid Jason's Deli (Bradley Fair location) because we're going to make these weeks as full and joyous as possible.

Of course, I would be slightly-less-than-fully-honest if I said that it is not a mixed blessing to have my parents here. Certainly to see them is always fantastic and I love, love, love them and they entertain me and challenge me and they seem very comfortable with where I am in my life (after years and years (38ish (I kid)) of worry) and they are wonderful parents who still bring gifts and want to bake things for no apparent reason and who spoil their first and farthest away grandchild (they will have four total in a few months - the other three are all within a six hour drive). They are also very happy that I have Special Lady Friend in my life (she really, truly is one of the most lovable people I've ever known (see Larry the Cable Guy name drop above)).

But (there is always a "but" with me, right?) there is often cause for concern and pause. My parents are, as all do, aging. My mother has hearing aids that she for whatever reason doesn't wear 100% of the time (last night's homework session was interesting - my daughter would massacre and misread words and she would just nod along as though perfect literacy was happening in front of her). My father - already with one transplanted eye (that I lovingly remind him, regularly, probably came from some underserved urban youth taken too young) and surgery coming on the other - has very little voice because of tramped-on vocal cord from a prior surgery that will have to be operated on soon is also a mixed bag of medical curiosities. We laid in bed the other night and listened to them laying out their medicines. I actually joked (awkwardly) that they sounded like an orchestra made only of maraca players.

They have been in town just over 24 hours. They have already broken a towel rod, built into the bathroom wall and fed Charlie human food (the greatest of all the sins - no disrespect, blasphemy). They have asked me to stop using the f-word so much (a fool's errand for sure) and they have made me incredibly happy. Just to have them close by. Just to have time with them. Just to let them have time with their granddaughter. To have them meet and embrace SLF (as all the kids are calling Special Lady Friend when they Snapchat about her (I don't even know what that means)). To have the westward wind blow them here again.