A shor visit with my parents

[SeaCat]

So yesterday my wife and I headed a short ways north to visit with my parents. We haven't seen much of them this winter because all of us have been busy. We left here at 0800 and arrived at their place at 0940. Good time.

When we pulled up we were met in the driveway by my parents. Now the hug from my mother isn't a surprise, but when I turned to shake hands with my father I was pulled into another hug. This is a bit of a surprise as my father isn't the touchy feely type, but he seems to have decided this is the proper way to greet me. (This started two years ago and is only between my father and myself. He doesn't do this with my brother or sister.) We then went inside for hot, strong coffee and another light breakfast. (Fried Egg Sandwiches accompanied by thick sliced fried bacon.)

As we were eating my father informed me he was out of Grapefruits, so it was quickly decided we would head off to his favorite abandoned grove to get some. (This worked out well as I too was out.) All four of us climbed into my car and off we went, talking and joking as we went. My father was asking a lot of questions about the bike and our riding while my mother was asking about foods and other things. (She had watched as I unloaded the meats for that night dinner into her fridge.)

When we arrived at the edge of the grove I parked the car in a break in the bushes next to a river. Following my fathers directions I backed into the spot. Like my father I had on a pair of jeans and boots so we were all set. We grabbed a couple of buckets and headed into the grove. It didn't take us long to find what we were looking for, several trees next to each other and loaded with fruits. Naturally none of them were on the lower branches so we had to climb.

I was first up in the trees and I moved quickly. Choosing only the largest and ripest looking ones I picked them and dropped tem to my father who placed them in the buckets. I swung from branch to branch, reaching out with one hand and holding on with the other to get the best looking ones. Within ten minutes we had filled four five gallon buckets and were ready to leave. It was a chore hauling these buckets back to the car but we did it in one trip. We had placed them in the car when my father spotted a dust plume on the road heading in our direction. I grabbed my glasses from the car and checked out what was coming our way and was unhappy to see it was a patrol car. We were on private property after all. When I told my father this he recomended we ove on down the road. As soon as everyone was in the car I got us out on the road and dropped the hammer. Everyone wa hanging on as I hauled ass down the road.

After this little adventure we had a fun day checking out the fishing and water conditions at several local beaches before heading back to my parents place. Once there I helped my father with a few chores before I got ready to make dinner. I grilled up a couple of Skirt Steaks which had been marinating for two days as well as 12 large Shrimp which had also been marinated. My mother meanwhile pulled out a tub of Potatoe Salad. Dinner was a feast.

After dinner was over my father asked if I cared to accompany him as he walked his dog. I readily agreed to this as I needed to walk off some of dinner. As we walked we talked of this and that just relaxing and enjoying the cool evening air. When we arrived back at their place we were greeted by the smell of fresh brewed coffee and were soon sitting on the patio enjoying this. My father had gone inside as we were setting up the tabke and when he came out he held a small cigar in his hand, which he handed to me. When I looked at it I found it was a cigar made in Cuba. Now where he had gotten it I didn't know nor did I ask. I just looked to him for permission and receiving it lit up. Ahh such an evening.

Too soon it was time for my wife and I to head home. I tossed the magazines my father had saved up for me into the back of the car and we were off. We didn't get home until 1230.

This morning when I went out to unload the magazines I found a couple of extra items in the back of the car. I know my father had to have placed them in there because they weren't there when I headed north. These included two boxes of miniture cuban cigars. (100 per box) and a case of high end Tequila. I'll have to find some way to thank my father for these and the three books I found in there.

Cat

 

[cloudy]

Aren't parents just the best?

I know that many people have issues with their parents, sometimes because it's so damn easy to fall back into behavior patterns that were maybe appropriate when we were twelve, but that we've never grown out of.

I was daddy's girl through and through - was never very close to my mother at all. My younger brother was her baby. When my father died, I was devastated. I still had my mom, but she'd always sort of been in the background all my life - at least from my perspective, the "little princess," and all that. I really felt like an orphan, since my father had been my "parents."

Since then (it's been twenty-two years now, and I still miss him every single day of my life), my mother and I have forged a new type of relationship, one that doesn't have the traps and pitfalls that it might have had had we been closer when I was growing up.

I adore my mother. I want to be just like her when I grow up, and I admire the hell out of her for putting up with my father and all of us for the 34 years that they were married and she was raising five kids - plus assorted kids that were at loose ends for one reason or another.

Like your dad, she slips things into my purse when I'm not looking, just because she can. It's almost like finding a love note when I find them.

 

[SeaCat]

Aren't parents just the best?

I know that many people have issues with their parents, sometimes because it's so damn easy to fall back into behavior patterns that were maybe appropriate when we were twelve, but that we've never grown out of.

I was daddy's girl through and through - was never very close to my mother at all. My younger brother was her baby. When my father died, I was devastated. I still had my mom, but she'd always sort of been in the background all my life - at least from my perspective, the "little princess," and all that. I really felt like an orphan, since my father had been my "parents."

Since then (it's been twenty-two years now, and I still miss him every single day of my life), my mother and I have forged a new type of relationship, one that doesn't have the traps and pitfalls that it might have had had we been closer when I was growing up.

I adore my mother. I want to be just like her when I grow up, and I admire the hell out of her for putting up with my father and all of us for the 34 years that they were married and she was raising five kids - plus assorted kids that were at loose ends for one reason or another.

Like your dad, she slips things into my purse when I'm not looking, just because she can. It's almost like finding a love note when I find them.

My father and I never got along when I lived at home. Even when I was young we butted heads, and yet we were there for each other. We had a strange relationship.

If there was a job to be done around the place then I was the one told to do it.

If the lawn had to be cut I was tagged with it while my brother and sister went to the swimming hole. When my fathers car broke down I was the one he insisted was out there getting greasy and helping him fix it in the middle of the night. Then again He was out there in the barn in the middle of winter helping me make my first motorbike, and again when I built my first car.

When the fields had to be tilled under I was the one out there with him and two rototillers to get it done while my brother and sister were in the swimming pool or inside. Then again I was the one my father taught to make improvised Flame Throwers so we could burn off the weeds in the fields.

When my father drove off the exit ramp from the highway in the middle of the weekly snowstorm I was the one who had to go out and drive the tractor the several miles to pull his car out of the snowdrift.

When I wanted money to buy a new bycicle my father didn't give it to me as he did to my brother and sister. Instead he gave me enough money to buy what I needed, then went along with me to the right stores and I bought traps. He taught me what I needed to know and I spent that winter trapping. (A five mile trap line to and from school. I was in Elementary School at the time.) By the end of the season I had paid him back his stake, increased my number of traps and had enough left over to buy a geat bike. (I trapped for the next several years.) Then the next year my father pulled me out of school and we went on a one month camping trip, on horseback in the Denali.

My father always did that with me. He worked my ass hard then we would take these month long camping trips to the middle of nowhere.

He pushed me both physically and mentally. He pushed me to learn and he did so by example. He taught me things that are now illegal and he taught me to think and to survive. He was always there, a stern taskmaster.

And then my first true love was killed and I went crazy. He stood on the sidelines knowing he could do nothing as I changed. He watched and saw as I became inhuman, he waited. When the time was right he struck again. He dragged my ass out to where I belonged, the wilds. He taught me to live again and he taught me that I could even love again. That was when our relationship changed.

I'm lucky in that my parents are still alive, and I admit to that.

Cat