And Now, We Celebrate
Seventy hours of boatyard toil between the two of us seems like a good time for a vacation. Lucky for us, we are Vancouver-bound to embark upon an Alaskan Cruise. The past couple of days have been spent carefully assembling strategic outfits that will allow me to cram two weeks worth of clothes into a a solitary carry-on. As I folded my clothes in space-saving origami shapes, my mind wandered to the purpose of our journey: a celebration of my parents' fiftieth anniversary. A pretty darn good excuse for a boatyard break, if you ask me.
Thinking back, I must admit I have often foolishly taken for granted the unwavering support and encouragement of my parents. They never missed a game or recital. I was cheered on through every phase of my youthful pursuits from piano to tap to guitar, clogging, basketball, or even marching band. Even now, in the new phases of adulthood, their support remains steadfast. I feel most grateful, though, for the values they have patiently taught me along the way. Values that were instilled not by repetitive empty words but by so many examples that they gave in their actions. Their shared compassion for their community and others has been a cornerstone in their beautiful enduring partnership.
My mother gave her heart and soul to the public education system as a special education teacher. After 39 years of service, she retired, yet her passion for teaching remained. She continued to substitute and lend a helping hand. I remember many early mornings getting to school earlier than I ever thought it was necessary to so she could have her room open and waiting for her kiddos. Often we are frequently approached by former students, now grown adults, eager to share a hug and a word of gratitude. My Mom has always given extra love where it is needed. I recall at least one instance when she welcomed a student into our home, providing a good hair washing in our kitchen sink and a hot meal.
Any friend who graces our doorstep is treated with the utmost hospitality. My mother goes to extraordinary lengths to ensure that their favorite treats are prepared. That cheese you mentioned you liked is in the fridge, and special trips were made to three different stores to find the coffee creamer that complies with your pistachio-only, nut-milk diet. It is impossible to not feel special in her presence.
Nowadays when you pass through my parents' doorway, you are greeted with the smell of fresh sourdough bread. There is always dough rising in a green bowl on the counter and a couple loaves baking in the oven. This loaf is for such and such down the street who is sick, and that loaf is for so and so who has company in town. Many a neighbor, friend, or family member can attest to her generosity.
My father, too, possesses a heart of gold. Throughout my childhood, he seemed ever vigilant for opportunities to lend a helping hand. He would offer his seat to strangers, mow his neighbor's lawn without hesitation, provide encouragement, or a listening ear to those in need. He is the one organizing the flowers for bereaved classmates' families, cooking the pancake supper, and undertaking countless other acts of kindness.
As a child, I watched my father as he patiently cared for my Gam-mommie. She was my father's stepmother, a welcome addition to our family when my grandfather reached his seventies, my father being in his forties. Despite being a stepmother, she was cherished and treated as one of our own. As she aged and battled dementia, my father would often leave work to visit with her and offer comfort and reassurance. Sometimes the only calming activity for her would be going for a drive to see their small town through her eyes. She would point to each house, and my father would listen as she recounted the same stories heard many times before. Even as her mind faded, she would still recognize my father's voice, a testament to the depth of their bond.
My father is a man of boundless enthusiasm, particularly when it comes to finding the perfect gift. He often struggles to contain his excitement, spoiling the surprise by revealing his purchase weeks in advance. I adore this quality about him — I dare say it’s one of my favorites. It speaks to how much the act of giving means to him personally.
My Parents continue to give generously. I've been so proud to watch as they exemplify that growth continues at any age. They don't skip a beat to organize help and support for those in need. They can often be seen at the games and recitals for their friends' grandchildren. They have taught me the importance of extending kindness and respect to all living beings. I am eternally grateful for their love and support, though I do not express my gratitude often enough.
I know there are countless examples of their generosity, and I encourage you to share them in the comments, and I will happily pass them along as we celebrate this week together with my brother Josh and his husband Marcus. We are in for a fun time! I can't wait to put my arms around them as we give Debbie (my mom) a fighting chance to see a whale. Keep your fingers crossed for us on that one.
