My father is not cool. Conversations with him are often boring, and involve an extensive discussion of wood cutting. He mumbles--thanks for that-, talks softly and is a well-practiced introvert. Growing up I was jealous of friends with cool parents. I wanted a TV show beautiful Mom and Dad who were fun to be around and drew people with ease. Instead, I got two solid, slightly boring, but absolutely reliable folks. And the older I get, the more I appreciate the gifts they've given me. Except the mumbling, I still struggle with that.
I am going home tomorrow, to my Mom and Dad. My Dad is battling cancer. Although, that verb makes it seem like he can win. My Dad is living out his days with cancer. He knows this will kill him, but remains more concerned with taking care of his kids than being taken care of. If he was used to being taken care of, they may have caught the cancer earlier. Such is the downside of a good parent. They take care of their children until they no longer can. They share their pain and fears with their spouses and peers. They don't burden their kids, even when we have long since learned to deal with life's miseries.
I am going home tomorrow, to a shrinking calendar of next times. Regret is an easy emotion at this time. But, I know I won't regret the time I've spent away. My Mom and Dad never had to rely on words to teach me how to live. Their most important lessons were taught to me as a child. Who I am, and who I still can be, is a product of two people showing me how to treat the world. They never preached equality and understanding but they taught it nonetheless. So, I won't regret the time we didn't share, because I took the core of who they are with me when I left. In their honour, I will continue being a solid, slightly boring, and reliable man.
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