Sunday, October 12, 2008

My parents, My saviors

I usually see my parents at least once a week. That is, when they are home and not traveling. They live an easy 8 mile drive from us, and it's pretty typical for me to pack up the girls on a Friday and head to their house for the day. My mom makes the best wasabi chicken salad sandwiches and my dad lets the kids abuse the hell out of his color copier. All us girls paint our nails and my dad and I discuss politics for hours. It's so nice to be in the embrace of both a loving family, and like-minded voters. :)



When the chips are down, my parents have always been there for Scot and I. Recently, I got the offer of the master bedroom in their house in case Scot and I should be forced to leave our own. I'm hoping it doesn't come to that, but the sincere propostion was appreciated. On Friday night my parents took us out for dinner. They said it was as payment for watching their dog, Annie, while they are away. But I was already paid with the gorgeous bedspread I recently acquired. I realize the dinner out was a morale boost for us. We hadn't been anywhere since Scot lost his job 7 weeks ago. It was nice to be out for the evening with good conversation and no dishes to worry about. That dinner was such a small gesture with huge uplift. I think I even put on lipstick that night!




When my parents got married 38 years ago, they were a unique couple. My dad had left the priesthood for my mother, and my mother had just ended a marriage that produced 2 children. My parents fled Michigan (where they were scorned) and settled in New Jersey. They bought a house, and things looked great till my dad lost his job in 1970. At that time, our country was in a recession and my dad could not find work. For several months, my parents scraped by on food stamps and welfare. It was all they could do to pay the mortgage. For Christmas that year, they gave my sister a Barbie knock-off they found at the Berlin Farmer's Market, and my brother got a silver dollar in a jewelry box. They couldn't afford the movies, or even the bridge toll to Philadelphia. My dad spent days going to the unemployment office looking for work, and would return empty handed to my mother. Then the two of them would play cards till it was time to pick up Tim and Julie at school.

Eventually, my dad found a job as a probation officer. This was the line of work he ended his career with, 30 years later. When he retired he was Chief of Probation for Phoenix, Arizona. What a tremendous rise from his humble start in New Jersey. I'm so proud of everything my parents achieved in spite of what they had to overcome ( part of the reason I'm a Democrat today is due to the fact that my parents used federal programs to help them get out of a tough spot.)

My parents have always been passionate about traveling, and it was their dream to retire and see the world. In 2000, they did just that. They now spend about half the year away from Arizona. On days I whine about the stress of unemployment, or worry about the money to buy Maggie's birthday presents, I know that my mom and dad "get" it. Hell, I am rich compared to what they had. But what an example they have set for me. With love and determination I know you can attain so much. They did. That's why when they are here, I see them as much much as I can. They have so much to give. And so much to teach.

3 comments:

Joelle said...

That was so touching and moving. You should print it and give it to them as a Christmas present this year. (Unless of course they make up reader number 2 and reader number 3 of your 3 person readership. He he he...just trying to make you laugh)

Jennifer said...

I never knew Norm and Mary went through such tough times. Amazing it made them stronger instead of driving them apart. What a great example they are!

Anonymous said...

I don't remember getting that knock off Barbie,unless it was that Dawn doll? I loved her. How did you remember those things? Did mom tell you? you were pretty little then, or wait- were you even concieved yet??? You and i are lucky to have the parents we do.