married again. They are going to come into town next week to begin the planning of the festivities.
They want to renew their vows on their 45 wedding anniversary. This is their 43 anniversary this year.
It is going to be a long two years....
You see, the only thing my parents have in common is that everything in their life is an Extravaganza. The original party people they are...
My Dad grew up poor. Actually, poor was looking mighty good to his family. Extreme poverty is probably a better description. His parents had fled a Reservation in search of food and a better life.
To them, being cotton share croppers in the deep South was a better life then what they left behind. My Dad tells us tales of how his parents wouldn't eat so that his 5 siblings and himself could. He talks of working in fields all day as soon as he could walk.
I can't imagine this anymore then my Mother can. Her Mother was a wildly successful woman, and she married a wildly successful man. My Mom was denied nothing growing up, and lived the life of a privledged socialite on the Chicago scene.
My Dad moved North to find work to help feed his family at 18. He has a way about him-people love him. He was just a naive country boy in the big city with $2.00 in his pocket when he saw my Mom for the first time.
He says he knew at that instant that he was going to marry her.
She, on the other hand, didn't feel the same way as she was engaged to marry someone else.
After breaking what would be considered major Stalker laws in this day and age, it took him all of two weeks to get her to break up with her fiance and become engaged to him.
They were married one month later. 43 years, 3 kids, 4 dogs, 1 cat, 2 rabbits, countless goldfish, 3 houses, and 2 small businesses later, they are still those two kids who no one ever believed would last, but did.
You might wonder why my Mom's parents wouldn't object to this union. My Mom was engaged to a man who was an officer in the Army, had an Ivy League education, and a promising future as a politician who shall remain nameless at this point and time.
One reason: My Grandma grew up in extreme poverty too, and had risen above it. I don't think she ever truly trusted people with money, and her Irish heritage had brought much suffering on that side of my family. She also came from the South, and she appreciated my Father's Southern charm. She never forgot where she came from.
So there you have it. My parents are complete and total opposites in every way, yet for whatever reason it worked. I truly believe they are soul mates, as they even get along and everything.
Get along doesn't cover it. They are still butt ass in love with each other.
I don't ever remember them fighting. I found out as an adult that they had some good ones, but they made a promise never to fight in front of us children. While this gave me a bit of a distorted view on how relationships worked, I'm still grateful for it.
What was I saying? Oh yeah...They are coming into town next weekend. It is kind of like the circus coming to town. They always stay with me, as they can get away from the noise and clatter of little children if they want to. Another reason is they can have guests at all hours of the night and party their asses off.
I'm too old for this shit.
When my parents are here it is a constant revolving door of people. They had tons of friends, more acquaintances, and were kind of like the adult version of the cool kid in school. Not only do we have their old friends coming over, but my friends can hardly wait to hang out with them when they are in town.
This inevitably causes strife with my Sister, as she did not receive the popular, social, or spontaneous genes that seem to be so deeply encoded in the rest of our DNA.
She doesn't understand why they don't grow up. I'll admit, sometimes I do too, but all in all I'm glad to have crazy ass parents who live to have fun. They aren't alcoholics, they don't do drugs, and except for the indecent exposure charge a couple of years ago (GOD don't make me explain that one, parents aren't supposed to do that, especially in public) they are pretty much law abiding citizens.
Most people probably think, wow, how lucky to be raised by people like that, and they are right. There is a flip side to everything though. It can be a lonely existence for a child of parents like these, as their attention is diverted in many different ways and by many different people.
My sister resents the hell out of it. She thinks that we weren't a high enough priority because the parental units didn't attend every soccer game or every science fair. They were busy people. Busy with career, friends, and yes us. We weren't neglected, not in the least bit, but they did live their own lives outside of us children.
For any of you that have read the my sister the lemon post you are probably thinking, "Look at the pot calling the kettle black. My parents never, ever, acted like her. Not even close.
I prefer to think it made us independent, as I've learned a long time ago it does no good to dwell on the negative aspects of life.
Party people will be in 'da house in 9 days. God help us all.