February 6, 2015 was my parent's 33rd wedding anniversary, and this is the letter I wrote to them...
Dear Mom & Dad on your 33rd
wedding anniversary,
We’ve always been an outwardly loving family.
The modern day group texts with updates of our day, funny random comments, lots
of good nights, lots of good mornings, lots of xoxo’s, lots of I love you’s. Lots
of love, really.
The phone calls, the get togethers, the short
stretch of miles between us (I’ve always made sure of the “short” part), the
unspeakable bond between us four.
I’ve always known I was lucky. Not only to
grow up in a family where the two parents were still together and happily in
love but also to have pretty much anything I wanted at my fingertips. A nice
place to live, plenty of food, cars paid for, college paid for, a fostering
environment, the list goes on and on. The necessities were more than covered,
and I had so much more than that too. So much more.
I have always appreciated it. I have. It was
never lost on me. It was just never fully realized either when I was younger.
Time and winding your way through your youth
has a way of uncovering these truths for us. As I get older, I realize the
importance more bit by bit, and I’ve been meaning to write this letter for a
while now.
We all go about our lives and we have good
times together and everything is great, but I don’t want you to just hear about
how much I love you in broad strokes. I want you to REALLY know. And, I’m sure
you already get it, you do, but just in case, here are some examples:
When I call mom and often get put on
“speaker” so dad can hear because it’s more of an event than a simple
conversation – even if it’s the third time I’ve called that week. And, the
“thanks for calling” at the end like it’s a favor to you two even when it’s
something I genuinely enjoy and want to do.
When I went through a particularly difficult
break up and mom was there the next day, no questions asked, even if she
already had other plans.
When no guy I ever date is good enough
because dad is too damn spectacular – at EVERYTHING.
When we watch home videos of Ben and me as
children and you two are flirting with each other in them, deliriously happy,
despite your sleep-deprived faces.
When mom never complains about having
diabetes – 28 years and counting.
When dad is stressed but you would never know
it because he rarely shows it, rarely complains and rarely acts less than 100%
present.
When I have a bunch of sh*t to hang on the
walls and dad is genuinely happy to help me. Like, smiling widely wielding a
hammer.
When I’ve just had a quiet morning or maybe a
particularly overly introspective day, and when I see you two, it’s all chatter
and happy and hustle bustle. It kind of has a way of setting things back to
neutral for me.
When dad would never yell at us unless he was
REALLY mad. When mom would always yell at us. You guys had the balance down right.
When there is some type of family event and
mom has everything planned including itinerary/food and makes it look easy and
never seems “put out”.
When you two talk to me about things
concerning Ben because you want my opinion, and I feel validated in giving it
since I’ve known my brother during his whole span of time on this earth.
When I can come to you with anything and
never feel judged.
When the best thing for each of you, truly, is
seeing Ben and me happy. Sometimes our happiness might be derived from us
having really active social lives and not having as much time to talk to you or
see you. That does not bother you though because this is just one example of
how your love for us is unconditional.
When I can call at 3am, if needed, and mom would
answer – because she’s never truly had a goodnight’s sleep in over 32 years.
When I’m sad about something and maybe I’ve
talked to other friends about that something, but when I hear mom’s voice on
the other end of the line, it instantly makes me break down and cry.
When dad had a pretty terrible upbringing,
but despite all odds and probably in spite of all odds, still became the best
father either of us could have ever dreamed of.
When Ben or I tell mom we want to buy a
table, or something along those lines, and instantly, we have five to six links
of table options waiting for us in our email.
When you gave me Ben when I was four because
even though we are so different in so many ways that is mostly why I love him.
When we just have fun together and are the
“loud family”.
There are so many more examples, but I
digress.
Your love, support, selflessness and patience
is unwavering, year after year. It may shift and change shape with the passing
of time, but it’s always there, strongly rooted. And that is just something, in
and of itself – to know you’ll always be there, no matter what. It’s a
grounding and peace provoking feeling. I know you’d tell me that’s what family
is all about and that’s what family is for, but it’s not. It’s the best gift
anyone can be given.
I’m one of the truly lucky ones.
I don’t even know where I’d be or who I’d be
without you. I like to think I’d still be “me”, but the truth is, so much of
me, is you.
Don’t get me wrong; I know it’s been hard. I know
I was a terrible baby, and I know Ben was no cup of tea as he got older. I know
you both continue to work super hard in different ways, but damn if you don’t
make it look easy, worthwhile and graceful.
I already have so many special memories, and
I can’t wait to make more. I love seeing how our relationship evolves as we all
grow older and continue on this journey together.
I know they say no one can prepare you for
how fiercely and powerfully you’ll love your children. But no one prepares you for
the first people who will steal your heart either. Out of the seven billion
people on this earth, I’d choose you two every time.
We are four, but we are one.
For all the ways you’ve “showed up”, in every
sense of the word, I’m so very thankful. Everything you’ve done for me is
everything to me.
You’re the greatest loves of my life.
xoxo,
Em
