Interrupted

My Life Thus Far
2006-07-06 04:58:57 (UTC)

Welcome Home

I had such a fabulous day. It isn't over yet (Dad isn't
home from work, he won't be for another hour yet), but
most of it is, so I figured it's a good time to write.

I spend all day with the kids and actually enjoyed it! My
brother Chris (who's 12), Annie and Kiki. They've been
tearing through the house, getting along superbly. Chris
is in summer school, but when he got home at 1pm, the
rough housing commenced. Around 2:30pm we went to the pool
for a few hours. After that, everyone showered, dressed
and rested for a bit before we went to McDonald's for
dinner. Guess what I had? Chicken nuggets AND french fries
without feeling guilty or it turning into an all night
chocolate, pizza or ice cream binge! If that isn't
personal growth, then I don't know what is!

I decided during dinner that I wanted to do something
special for Dad. He's trying so hard to make up for lost
time (which he can never do and I think that kills him).
When he saw me last night the first thing he said
was "Welcome home". In all actuality, my home is nicer,
but that has nothing to do with it. Welcome home is a
symbolic gesture that has more to do with the feeling of
safety and security the family home has to offer, not so
much the building that serves as home. I slept through the
night last night for the first time in well over a month
AND I took a nap late this morning. I feel SAFE (and well
rested), isn't that a foreign concept?

Anyway, back to the something special I mentioned. After
dinner, Chris directed me to the local Wal-mart, because I
had an idea for something I wanted to give my Dad. A
plant. Your basic houseplant. He has none. Actually, there
isn't a single feminine touch in the entire place (which I
totally didn't expect there to be), so I wanted to leave a
mark. Something he can look at, think of me and remember
our time together. I got the idea of the plant from a
story he told me about him and my mother. When Dad was
growing up his mother grew african violets. When one of
them wouldn't bloom or died or she just got mad, she'd
throw houseplants around the house. Dad always had to
clean them up. So, when he married my Mom and they moved
into there first place, she had all these houseplants and
they totally irked him. Long story short, he had to learn
to live with them and realize that just because his mother
threw houseplants when she was mad, didn't mean my Mother
would. It was a story about personal growth, if you
couldn't tell. So, as a semi-joke/serious gesture, I got
him a prayer plant. It's hardy, likes dark places and can
survive prolonged dry spells. I wonder how long it'll take
him to kill it? Just as a precaution, I did explain plant
care 101 to Chris in the hopes that the plant might have a
fighting chance.

I think I'll go read now. Ciao.




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