when i turned 21…

When I turned 21 my dad gave me the newspaper fromt he day I was born. That’s just the way he is – he thinks of these things and he remembers. And you would think that when he gave me the paper, I would have been overjoyed, but truthfully, I was also sad. I realized that when I turned 80, he’d be 106 if he was still alive and that would be wonderful, but highly unlikely. Like a ton of bricks it hit me: I might have a birthday without one of my parents. How sad is that? There are many years between now and 80, but there won’t be anyone else just like my dad or my mom.

Anyway, this memory isn’t from totally out of the blue. I watched last week’s Grey’s Anatomy tonight. I know, it’s just a show, but it made me think becaus George’s dad dies in the episode and it made me consider what it would be like to live without a parent.

I have so many fond memories of my dad growing up. I remember once, he and I both had jeans with lots of pockets in them and I remember him helping me get dressed when I was little and we looked at all of the nifty pockets on the jeans. And I remember playing fort with him in the basement, wearing foil for hats. And going sledding on the hill. And making “specials” for breakfast (peanut butter and jelly toast).

I also have a ton of fond memories of my mom – she is the best. I loved watching her put her make up on in the morning and set her hair in rollers. I love the way she tucked me in at night when I was little. I loved riding along with her in the car, singing along to the radio. I remember distinctly being in her old Caprice Classic when I was 4 ish, listening to Billy Joel singing For the Longest Time, and Mom told me that Billy Joel sang everything in the song. It blew my mind – even the background music! wow!

And when my parents are together, there isn’t anything more fun. On long car rides, they are better singing entertainment than Sonny and Cher – although, remember, I am tone deaf. It is clear that they love eachother very much.

Anyway, there is nothing like your parents. And maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll pull out my birthday newspaper when I’m 80 and my dad and mom will be there to read it one more time with me.

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