Day Five: Been thinking about my parents since dawn broke.
They are wonderful parents: we were never rich but they managed to put both daughters thru college, without any single dime on debt. There were hand-me-down clothes, hardly any family vacations but my mom would pick me up any time of the day, rain or shine, my dad would call me by 9PM when I didnt show up in front of the door. Even when I was 22.
There is their bed to share (read my previous blog: The Bed That Never Sleeps), a stack of magazines in the corner and a sewing room that belongs to my mom, where we the daughters like to hang out when we had nothing better to do. Mismatching the fabrics and tried to sew a button to make our Barbies pretty.
Choosing to marry my husband was a hard things to say to them. They were expecting that I’d choose a local guy, settle down in nearby area and help my parents out as they grow older. Instead, I chose an American guy, hopped on the plane and did not look back. My parents still threw me a farewell party, with all neighbours, friends and church people attended. They spent all the money that they had in the pocket, knowing that their oldest daughter was leaving without any certainty when she’d come back.
So, they missed my wedding. My spring courthouse wedding. My autumn church wedding where I wore the ivory dress that my mom sew for me. They missed the birth of my beautiful son. They missed the moments. My important moments. Their important moments.
This Saturday I’m getting baptized. Again, they’re going to miss it. Oh I wish my parents were here….