My Best Friend

Perhaps my newest theme is to brag up the cool people in my life. It's my husband's turn. As you well know, we recently moved back to the US. Our 13th wedding anniversary was coming up in April and he told me to block out the weekend for some plans he had made. I imagined a concert maybe, an expensive restaurant, a nice hotel for one night. Nope. None of those things. He blew this one out of the water.

First he flew his mom down from Michigan so she could stay with the kids. This meant that my kids were overjoyed for us to walk out the door. He flew us to Seattle, Washington where we honeymooned many years before. I imagine you're wondering why we went there. Why not Jamaica? Florida? or the ever common Traverse City? Here's why. Even then, we had a sense of adventure. We wanted to do something new. Though we were only 19 years old, we wanted to create a unique experience together.

I grew up on the West Coast and I would tell him about the ocean and the way the mountains roll. Somewhere in a conversation we decided that Seattle was the perfect spot. His first ride on a plane was on that Spring day in 2001 just hours after we said our vows. Long before TSA check-points, before 9/11. We experienced rough air and he had a death grip on my arm. I tried to calm the nerves of my husband, hoping he would make it to our honeymoon destination with me. He did and now 13 years later, he travels 50% of the time, all over the world for his job. Monday he will begin a round-the-world tour bringing him to four countries on three continents in three weeks.

I am so flattered that he chose to spend his Stateside time with me on an airplane to a memorable location.

He had planned out the bus route from the Sea/Tac airport to our hotel and every possible detail in between. But he still had surprises. On the day of our anniversary, he surprised me again. we rented a car and drove to a resort to get a glimpse of Mt. Rainier. The ride up the gondola was beautiful and the weather was in our favor.


We spent most of our days roaming around town to all our favorite stops like Ivar's Seafood and Chowder and Pike Place Market.



We also went up the Space Needle with our Master and Mistress of Ceremonies who just happen to live in Seattle now. Crazy small world. Back in the day, it was the tallest thing we'd ever seen. Now it pales to the Eiffel tower in Paris, Hotel Ukraine in Moscow, and the Canton Tower in GuangZhou, China. It's still special in its own way.

But possibly the best surprise came on the last day. We rode a train to the airport to leave our luggage for the day, then rode it back into town for the Mariner's Season Opener. I haven't been to a major league game in years and to be there with my favorite person, in such a special place was absolutely stunning. He bought the tickets months ago and we were just above the first base line. I remembered quickly how to yell at the umps, cheer on the batter for a "good=eye" and hoot at a stolen base. I forgot how much I missed American baseball (not to mention the kraut covered dogs and 7th inning stretch sing-along).




When he gets back in a few weeks, we are going to see the Detroit Tigers play Baltimore. Immediately after the game, we caught the midnight flight back home. I'm glad I have a husband who knows how to treat his best friend and make new memories that will last a few more years.

My Daddy always said...

It has been my personal experience that distance causes a nostalgic endearing toward one's parents. I'm sure my kids will repeat this word-for-word later in their lives and I'm okay with that. Here's my point, we don't realize the impact of our parents until we are far away and find ourselves quoting them, doing something the way they taught, or copy-cat parenting.

A few weeks ago my sister came to visit. While she was anxious for a break from her own busy routine, I made it clear that she would be painting, sorting, shopping, and generally allowing me to boss her around (which is fun because she is older and has bossed me for YEARS!) I also took her to the National Mall and for pedis, so we're even.

In the past, my husband and I loved to tackle painting projects. Shortly after starting, we wanted to tackle each other, not at all in a romantic way, more like in a "you don't know a stinkin' thing about anything" kind of way. The solution was easy. Because my building contractor dad taught me, I know the proper way to paint. Therefore, I simply painted while hubby was at work. Then the job was done and everyone lived to enjoy it.

When my sister and I began taping the trim, we realized there would be no fights this time. We both did it the "right" way. The job was fun and easy. We laughed when Number 2 walked into the room with an injury and we quickly said, "It'll feel better when it quits hurting" a famous line of my father's. I used to joke that my arm could be falling off my body and my dad would tell me to "walk it off." When I accidentally smudged the ceiling with the paintbrush, I threw out a flippant "dog-gone-it!" Throughout the weekend we assembled furniture, hung pictures, and enjoyed work well done.

Today, I thought of my dad again. My favorite quote of his is: "Some people think they're kids are great, but mine really are." I loved that line because he meant it. I love it also because I feel the same way about the people in my home who share my name.

A while back we had to drop off a package at the post office. Number 2 quickly volunteered to run it inside. I saw him hustle to the door and I saw him politely waiting in line. While I waited in my vehicle, an elderly man came up to my window and motioned for me to open it. He said to me, "I saw a boy walk in carrying a package. Is he yours?"

From my experience in Russia, I felt like I was in for a verbal beating about the ills of allowing kids to go somewhere alone. I was dead wrong.

"Yeah, what of it?" I said
"What of it? Well let me tell you. In my 88 years of life, I have never been treated so respectfully by a young man. He opened the door for me, smiled at me, and let me get in line first. What a thoughtful, special young man. Will you tell him, please, to be a doctor? We need good people in the world like him to be doctors."

Needless to say, I tearfully accepted his praise, and passed it onto my son.

This week my kids are spending their Spring Break doing a series of Service Projects within DC. They loaded up clothes to get dirty, shovels, work gloves, and smiles on their faces. I'm so proud. Sure they get in occasional spats and sometimes don't shower as often as they should, but altogether, they are wonderful kids.

I hope the sayings I pass onto my kids are as valuable. Maybe not, "Is there any purpose to this story?" or "Don't leave the door open!" but maybe a little bit more "Prefer your siblings to others" and "Do it because it's the right thing to do."