Change

Friday was an amazing day at the beach. Yes, they pretty much are all amazing, but normally there is a haze in the air, and cloudy skies. It was crystal clear, the sky was bright blue, and the water was perfect.

Besides death and taxes, the only thing you can be sure of is change. As you might imagine, my relationship with my folks has changed significantly since I left. What was once punctuated with misunderstanding and hurt feelings blossomed into strong connection and a better understanding of the other.

The distance has enabled me to see how much my parents cared for me. I am able to see the sacrifices they made, the good and steady home they maintained, and the love they gave; all in the spirit of doing the best they knew how.

The dogs had a great time at the beach.

I’m not sure, but I think my folks have a renewed respect for me as person. I think they see me as courageous instead of crazy. It’s not like they have said they are proud of me or anything, but I can tell by my mom’s voice that she is kind of living vicariously through me. My dad’s judgmental concerns have softened into curiosities. 

Just as I was basking in this new—and deeply longed for—relationship with my parents, a bittersweet change came along. 

About six months ago, my mom began seeing a massage therapist. Because her body is bound up in 82-years’ worth of knots, she needed a lot of massage. A lot of massage is expensive. My mother’s massage therapist is an angle on earth, and she and her husband have provided more than massage for my folks.

Last weekend Dan decided to get his surfboard wet.

She has been very generous with her time, giving them hour massages for $25. He helps dad with his computer, and she straightened out dad’s affairs when he thought he lost his checkbook and closed the account. 

The four of them spend a lot of time together. The angels take care of things around the house and mom makes them dinner. Recently, they have been going to restaurants and celebrating birthdays. Today as I spoke with my mom, she was eagerly awaiting their arrival. This afternoon they are going to lunch by the lake.

I am extremely grateful that these angels are there to help my folks. And, the angel says she is happy to do it, hoping someone is doing the same for her folks who are in another state. 

He's one of those little dots out there.

I know my folks miss me, and I miss them. When the four of them are together, mom calls to say hi. Lots of laughter make it difficult for me to hear. This is how I got to meet their angel. One time the angel said she wanted to come to Hawaii, and that she and her husband were planning a visit. Since my folks wanted to come again, I suggested they come together. They decided on September 2012.

My brother has a lot of frequent flyer miles, and offered to pay for their flight, as long as it was a family affair. Meaning, as long as he and his family and my folks were the only ones going. 

Dan is explaining Bokeh in his blog, and needed a picture for it.

Mom is heartbroken. She does consider their angels to be part of the family, (as do I), and said they acted more like family than my brother. 

My brother’s strong reaction unearthed emotions I had been repressing. Those of being replaced. It stung a little deeper while I was on the phone with mom. After I spoke with her for a while, she asked dad if he wanted to talk to me. He said, “Nah.”

After a hot day at the shop, Dan matts his prints. 

I hung up the phone and tried to be a big girl. I thought, “It is what it is. I left. They have someone who is in their lives everyday. I am glad for the angels, they easy my worries because I know my folks are being taken care of.” Despite my efforts, tears blurred my vision as I told Dan that my mom’s solution to my brother’s demand is to not come. 

Happy at home with a cold tangerine juice cocktail.

So, I have been mourning the loss of my parents. It seems a bit premature I guess, they are still here. I can’t decide if I’m being too dramatic, childish; a victim maybe? I mean, I understand I live across the ocean, but still, it hurts. I need a good two hours on my yoga matt.

Last night we were chasing the sunset.