I love going home. Something about being the oldest, and having none of my siblings out of the house yet (only for the next few months!) gives me free range to just blend in and feel like a kid again.
It feels good. It feels like a vacation back to a simpler time, when all that I stressed about was what magazine clippings to put on my wall, and what outfit to wear to school the next day.
It feels good to walk the street and see this:
Those were my hand prints in 1996, and woah I just did the math to realize that was 16 years ago.
I feel like I should not be old enough to say that something happened 16 years ago, but there you have it, the evidence.
This weekend, we celebrated my parents' 28th wedding anniversary.
28 years ago (as of Saturday) they said their "I Do"s and stomped on a glass that took 10 minutes to find and did some weird shark dance to a song that was so not shark related and drank their champagne and stuffed cake in each other's faces (well, actually only Dad did that cause he cheated) and threw their bouquet and garter and all that jazz.
I know all of this because we watched their wedding video that hasn't been watched in about 28 years.
28 years ago, they started a life. A life that took them from that picture up there, to this:
Mom has only once commented on the blog, and she joked that I make us look normal.
Don't be fooled, we're not.
But then again, I think a "normal" family is one that has a bit of dysfunction woven in there. And if so, then we are very, very normal.
The point is, I know it hasn't been easy. But through thick and thin, they honored that commitment. And they've been honoring it every day for 28 years. Through the good days, and the bad.
And that example, I hope to take with me into my future marriage. Good work Mom and Dad, you did good.
You did real good.