Thursday, November 22, 2012

thankful: roots

A rerun for Thanksgiving

My first family - the one with my mom & dad & sister - doesn't read my blog much ever, which is fine. Sometimes the voice I use and the things I say are not likely part of their vision of me; I know I still feel mildly shocked when my baby sister talks about drinking (she's in her 30s) and I certainly get edgy if my parents remotely reference the fact that they do it. So it's cool that we have some separateness.

But I still need to acknowledge how grateful I am for their presence in my world, even if that presence is 6 hours of driving (and no simple plane or train ride) away. And that I miss them when we go long stretches without visits.

My favorite things to think about from my original family life:
  • the way my mom can smell a bargain from 80 miles away and will not only seek it out for herself but also for friends & relatives (or friends & relatives of friends & relatives) who might be interested
  • the way my dad keeps himself from telling me to shut up during the game when I have some piece of trivia about a football player, and that he still always wants to watch with me anyway
  • the way my sister rolls her eyes if I start bantering with a store clerk I've never met, and the way she threatens to leave me behind if I don't stop talking TO A STRANGER (but she never does leave)
  • our house on Whidbey Island, which is in the same spot and contains the same odd, short, makes-you-trip-when-you-run-on-it staircase as when it was built more than three decades ago, even though the entire downstairs is completely remodeled, and smells like dryer sheets & good food & my mom's hard work
  • our garage, which houses dozens of boxes of my extremely embarrassing notes from junior high and Fisher-Price Little People (the ones that would spontaneously choke unsuspecting American children today), and smells like gasoline & oil & my dad's patience with me
  • our driveway, which used to lead to my grandparents' house across the way (I could run there in 14 seconds; I timed myself once when the big light in the center was out and I had to get something from my grandma after dark)
  • the cozy warmth when we light the wood stove then pull out old blankets and sit together, in front of the TV with ice cream

    Young Bad Mom with the Good Dad who took her on all the scary rollercoasters

My beautiful baby sister, my beautiful mom, and me