Most evenings, it was Dad who was home eating dinner with us. He was the one asking us about our day, what we did, etc. Someone had to.
I mean, Mom sure didn't. Most of the time, anyway.
Her idea of family time was ghost stories at 3 am.
There are times when I'm completely mystified how they got together in the first place. I mean, they're so different. Night and day different, to be blunt.
Dad is more laid-back. He's a cheerful, friendly sort who would give you the shirt off his back. Mom, though, mom is a tiny woman, but she can give you this look and it's over. She can intimidate with just a scowl on her face.
I dug into Mom's old diaries and found that she wrote about her first encounter with Dad. Apparently, he'd just moved to the Valley and the teacher assigned Mom to be his lab partner so he could catch up with the rest of the class. Dad says she was a bit of a snob, a spoiled brat, and a know-it-all and that at first, they couldn't stand each other. He said she was so smart, she used to correct the teachers in class. The first night, she was brought home by the police, and Dad was standing there laughing! Mom says Dad still jokes about it today. They called each other all kinds of crazy names like Cheesebutt and Cheesebreath.
Mom also wrote about the first time Dad told her he loved her. She had been missing for days in Egypt, beyond any contact, news reports all worried, and when she returned, Dad realized that not only did he love her, but that he had always loved her. Mom, who didn't believe him at first, accused my uncle, her brother Noah of trying to set them up. On their first date, Dad took Mom to his favorite fishing hole down in the Valley. Mom, being Mom, hiked up the hill in spiked-heel shoes in an attempt to keep up with him.
My parents are still together, and they are still madly, deeply, wildly in love.
No comments:
Post a Comment