Some bloggers may not have good memories of their parents, some bloggers may not even know theirs. Luckily, neither of those situations apply to me. I have so many memories, both good and bad, of my parents that it would be impossible to fit them in this post. And I certainly know my parents, probably too much.
My mom and dad were very young when they started dating. I believe my mom was in the eighth grade (the same grade her granddaughter is in right now!!) My dad was in the ninth grade, obviously more mature and ready to start his life...not.
They lived just a few miles from each other and had very similar families. She had 3 sisters, with more on the way and he had 3 brothers with more on the way. Their parents were both happily married, they went to the same schools and had the same friends.
How many times have I heard about the first school dance, the first kiss, the first dinner with my dad’s little brothers. I loved the story about the time my mom’s parents took her and her sisters to Florida for the summer and she pined away for my dad the whole time. When they got home from the trip my dad was waiting and they ran to each other and held on like it had been years instead of weeks.
They dated on and off all through high school, mostly on. I remember one story about a break they took and my mom went on a few dates with some other guy. She told us she never kissed him though, she said dad was the only man she had ever kissed. My sister and I were teenagers when she told us this and instead of thinking it was sweet or romantic I remember we both thought it was gross and depressing,
“ The only one!? Ewwww…”She said she just didn’t want to kiss anyone else.
My father was at Cornell University and mom was in her senior year when she found out she was pregnant with me. He quit school and they were married. I will never forget how I felt when I figured out that my birthday, their wedding date and her senior year were all the same year. I was scared and confused, but one thing about my mom, she would tell us anything we asked. She wasn’t afraid to discuss sex or uncomfortable subjects. If we were brave enough to ask, she would tell us.
So they were married, they had me, my dad sold cars and my mom took care of us. Four years after me my little sister came along.
I had a good childhood, my parents loved me, we had enough food and a home of our own. I know now how hard they must have worked to give us all that and I am so grateful.
They were young and much cooler than my friends parents, I loved that!
Looking back, I know it wasn’t easy for my mom. My dad wasn’t the best husband to her. She had to handle more than she should have, but she loved him and she loved us even more.
She worked so hard at making sure their problems weren’t our problems. She went to night school and became a registered nurse. They both made sure we had braces, private schools and trips.
I think they were happy most of the time, I hope they were.
My mom was killed in a car accident 21 years ago. My dad was driving in another car and was just a few feet ahead of the car his wife and daughter were in when they were hit by a semi on slushy, snowy roads.
They had been married for 19 years, together for years before that. It was just days before my father’s 40th birthday when he lost his wife. I am older than that now and I can’t believe how young he was when he lost her.
I love my parents, maybe more now that I am a parent too and all the things I didn’t understand or appreciate when I was a kid make sense. There were bad times, but what I remember most is the good stuff…and there was way more of that.