Day 4: Parentals

I know, I've missed a couple days.  I've been single mom'ing it, under the weather and to be honest, confronted about writing my parents and doing them justice.  This still doesn't come anywhere close, but if I had waited until it was exactly how I wanted it to be, my own children would be grown and out of the house by then!

So, here's  Day 4: My Parents


Thinking about my parents makes me smile.  Especially since becoming a parent myself.

Like most kids, I always thought I knew who my parents were and what they were like.  You know, "My Mom IS this way" or "My Dad WOULD/WOULDN'T do/say/be that".  Now that I'm a parent, I can see that no matter how much I know about my parents, for the most part, it's through the lens of them being my parent, not necessarily who they are as whole people.  And that's okay, but I know enough now to know that whatever I think I know about them is only part of the story.  

We'll start with my Mom.  My Mom is the oldest of four kids born to two crazy kids from Wyoming.  She lived all over the country (and sometimes out) as she grew up with a Navy father. 

My Dad is the middle of three, born to a Baptist Preacher/Air Force man/re-builder of cars from Wisconsin and a stay at home mom from Texas.  He also moved around most of his life.

My Dad was 20, either on leave or very close to being drafted into the Air Force during the Vietnam War.  At 19, my Mom was working and dating and living life.  One fateful evening, she went cruising with some girlfriends.  Her friends started flirting with some cute boys in another car  who invited them to go to a party.  From what I remember being told, my mother was NOT thrilled about going to this party with these boys they did not know but she went anyway. 

Well, I'm sure you've already guessed, but one of those handsome young men was my father.  And boy did he make an impression on my mother!  She couldn't STAND him!  She barely tolerated him speaking to her the entire evening and when she finally got her friends to leave the party, she saw him passed out, face down in the front yard (hmmmm....interesting that I met my husband, drunk in a bar.) and couldn't have cared less!  I believe one of her friends even asked if they should help him and my mother assured her that was not at ALL necessary.

Needless to say, he was a charmer because somehow, some way, he managed to not only have her give him the time of day and go out on a date, but married her less than a year later.  A few years later, after having one daughter already, they became my parents. 

What a lucky girl I am to have been born to them. 

(Now, it's quite possible that some details of this story are slightly (or completely) inaccurate, but this is how I remember what I've been told.  Makes an interesting story though, right?)