The Importance of Family

Funny how we spring from our nests so ready to buck the weight of parents, fly to new horizons and make our own way. But parents, they know it's just a matter of time before we creep back their way. We fly far, we find our own way, we build a nest to call our own. And then, we call mom to tell her how great our life is and promptly invite her and dad over so they can share our happiness over a glass of red wine.
Those impending grandmother's who demanded proper manners, insisted on socks in the house and slathered Vick's in our noses at night. The ones we visited on holidays and spent the whole weekend turning over the wooden horses and antique hot wheels wondering if this was dad's favorite toy when he was my age. We giggle the whole way home about the tuna salad sandwiches served with an extra side of mayonnaise and the stale jelly beans we found in a candy jar on the mantel. How grandma farted in the kitchen.
The fondness has set in and before they're gone-or I'm gone, I'm spending time with them. I'm sending cards and making visits. I'm calling mom and dad to invite them over for that glass of wine more often, no matter how we clashed over the latest political debacle. I'm appreciating that this is my family. That these are the stories that made me who I am and I'm proud of that. I want my daughters to see it all, to delight in every antique toy, the collections of porcelain clowns and depression glassware, to giggle over all the mayonnaise and tuna sandwiches they can.
This is family. This is now.

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