My Mom and Dad

I wrote the following a few weeks ago, and the decided to save it and publish it today, on my parents 30th anniversary. I think my parents are amazing, and that I am truly in awe of their marriage, and think I could not be luckier than to be a part of the family they have created.
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I have been thinking lately how lucky I am that I actually miss my parents. I miss them great deal. The home I grew up in was a warm, wonderful, happy place to be, and although the house has changed, whenever I visit home I feel the same sense of safety, warmth and belonging. As much as I am finding Vancouver a happier place to be these days, I still get homesick, and on less than ideal days, I find myself wishing I could have a big bear hug from my Dad or a soothing shoulder massage from my Mom.

I have a number of friends who don’t particularly find their family to home to be an inviting place. They don’t get along with their parents and visits home are filled with tension and difficulty. Quite a few people I know have to carefully orchestrate visits around the facts of an unhappy divorce. Or they simply find visiting home boring because they have nothing in common with their parents. I also have at least four friends, which seems like a rather high number to me, who lost a parent when they were in their teens. So they miss their Mom or Dad, but can’t ever see them again.

I don’t understand why some people end up drawing the short straw on this one, but all I can say is that I will gladly suffer any other hardships life cares to throw at me, as long as I have my fantastic Mom and Dad at home rooting for me. I miss home, and sometimes that sucks. But I really wouldn’t have it any other way.