A Word About the Folks

Tonight, I called my parents for the first time in quite a while. For me, “quite a while” means for the first time in probably a month or so. I had been busy with work (and apparently, with blogging!), so I hadn’t called them in quite some time. I have e-mailed them, though, so I’m not a bad daughter. Honest, I’m not!

When I started talking to them, I realized how much I missed them. I don’t know about anyone else, but for me, talking to my parents after having not talked to them for a while is like walking into a kitchen and smelling apple pie baking. It’s that comforting, loving feeling of home. I just know that no matter what happens in my life, my parents will always love me. And that’s a pretty good feeling!

I gotta say, I’m very lucky to have these people as my parents.

My Mom is the kind of woman who always wants to make sure you are taken care of. She’s a Mom, after all!—and a wonderful one, at that! In my awkward teenage years, she sat there and listened to my problems (oh, what problems teenagers have, you know!) over and over again, and held me as I bawled over the latest boy who had broken my heart. I can remember her saying to me, many times as I was growing up, “It’s going to get better, I know it will.” And you know what? She was right! Things have gotten better for me throughout the years. I am more secure in myself now, and I’m married to the most wonderful man in the world. Things have gotten damn good! I hope my Mom knows how much I appreciated her always being there for me. And of course, nowadays, she’s still always there to offer a hug or a prayer or a word of encouragement. I’m very lucky to have her.

And then there’s my Dad. My Dad is the kind of man who would do anything for his family. I can’t even count how many times my Dad has helped my siblings and me throughout the years. He was always there for all of us, helping us during bad times, and laughing with us during good times. He helped my siblings and me move countless times, and he’s the Mr. Fix It of the family and is always willing to help out where needed. I remember one time when he was working on my brother’s roof, and he fell off and broke his toe! We laughed, relieved that he had only broken his toe. (Of course, later we found out that he fractured his sternum, too. Ouch!) But he of course recovered and just kept on helping. Even nowadays, he helps build houses for Habitat for Humanity. I’m very proud of my Dad.

And both of my parents have a great sense of humor. I think that’s what helped them get through all those years of raising 8 kids! When I was little, my Mom would sing me silly songs (like Mairzy Doats—if you don’t know what that is, you’re missing out!) while she washed my hair, and my Dad would wake me up in the morning with a funny rendition of “Good Morning to You!” (Again, if you don’t know what this song is, I’m telling you, you’re missing out!)

Even tonight, my Dad made me laugh while we were chatting on the phone. I was telling him about some troubles that I’d had lately, and that I was strong and overcame them. He responded, “You know, I never thought you’d be such a bad-ass daughter!” Wow, I’m bad-ass! My Dad is 80 years old and just called me bad-ass.

I’ll tell you something, I’m one lucky bad-ass.