My parents

Okay, so this post made me want to brag a little on my parents. :) I love hearing about people who live so close to their parents and spend all that time with them. It makes my heart ache with all the "what if?"s, but I'm glad to hear that some people are living that life. I know there are probably some inconveniences attached with living close to your family...but with my family, I just think they would be worth it.

I was always (am still?) a momma's girl. I think I cried in the Principal's office for the first week of Kindergarten, I was so traumatized about leaving my mother's side. I vividly remember crying outside of middle school (yes, MIDDLE SCHOOL) because my mother was late picking me up...like 5 minutes late. And although I went to college only 45 minutes from my parents' home, my mother came to visit me SEVERAL TIMES in the first month of school to try and get me through my homesickness. I was 18 years old. Still a momma's girl (and daddy's girl).

So of all people to move away from their hometown...I was not a strong pick. I always dreamed of moving right back to my parents' suburb and meeting a local boy and raising my family near their grandparents...happily ever after. Part 1 was seemingly achieved...while Jeff was not from Cincinnati, he at least was from Ohio. And his family has been in Ohio since before the American Revolution...so surely he would want to stay. And then he got the job offer in California. And we took it. Because it would only be for a few years and it was a fast track (let's all laugh together, now, shall we?)

I cried on the way to the hotel mere hours after we were married. I was LEAVING MY FAMILY. Over the next year, it didn't get any better. But even though we had moved thousands of miles away, my parents were there. My dad counseled Jeff in how to deal with me and my mom came whenever she could to just be with me...even though she still had a child in high school that needed her. Money was tight...California is damn expensive...especially for two little mid-western babies totally unprepared for the new standards (what? our apartment doesn't have a fridge? we didn't budget for that?). It also didn't help that every 9 months or so, I would change jobs...and each job's pay was progressively worse pay. They were there for us when we needed it...they always knew when the situation was dire.

Jeff and I have a successful marriage and a wonderful life. I attribute this directly to our parents (yes, Jeff's parents could be substituted in every situation above). We are truly blessed by their example of how a marriage succeeds through love and compromise, how to live modestly but comfortably, where to set your priorities. Their support and love has gotten us through many many moves, unexpected career changes, unexpected surprises (hello, Mike!), and so much more. How do you ever sufficiently tell someone thank you for all of that? How can you sound sincere in your humbled thanks?

I remember one week in the "early years" in CA, Jeff was in a car wreck, our washer died, and our dishwasher died...all in the same week. My parents sent a check for a large amount to help us out. I HATE accepting monetary gifts, because I feel like I shouldn't be a burden on my parents anymore...for heavens sake, I'm an adult!

And, knowing me so well, he attached a note to the check that said, "I know you feel bad about getting this. But you can pay me back...someday, when your kids need a lift...send them a check."

So that is how I vow to pay back all my parents' (and Jeff's) help and love and favors. By passing it along to Andrew, Michael, and Lily someday. With no strings attached...just because I love them and want them to succeed and be happy.