Last Sunday I phoned my parents at 1pm and promptly invited myself and my family out for dinner at their house. I was missing my parents. I wish they lived right next door. So we packed up the kids (including their pjs) and drove the hour out to their house.
We had a lovely time eating and talking. My kids got ridiculously dirty playing in the piles of gravel that are my parents yard and had tons of fun.
I love this picture for a few reasons. My mom isn’t really a fan of pictures (she’s worried about how she looks and losing weight. But I love her just how she is). And frankly, neither is my dad. But I just happened to ask and they both did it. And it is so them.
Grandma happy with her grandkids close. My dad with his Hill Spring basketball t-shirt under his other shirt. The light my mom pushed over by her to be in the picture. My kids in their pjs before we rushed them home to bed.
All of it, just natural. Just THEM.
Before my sister died, my mom and I didn’t have a very good relationship. I just saw our differences as a teenager and not our similarities. After Kelly died we became close. We are best friends now. She is my sounding board. Really we talk about almost everything. And no one gets me like my mom. I am sad that it took losing Kelly to get the relationship that we have. But I am so grateful that we have it.
I have good parents. Good people. Who are completely down to earth and absolutely faithful and loyal. I love that we live close enough that my kids get to see them. (I am very lucky my kids get exposure to both sets of wonderful grandparents.)
Sometimes you just want to be at home. Even if your parents don’t live in the same house that you grew up in. To me, home feels like these two.