A Parental Visit

Parents worry. It's what we do. They do. I saw mine last night in NY for dinner. We were celebrating my mom's 70th birthday. It's been a while since we've all been together. Their visits have waned of late. Not sure why. A minor tiff with my brother? Wanting to be asked more? Just busy? Not 100% sure really. And of course, I haven't exactly made the effort to get back to Philadelphia lately with my kids. In between all the work travel, getting on a plane to use up well earned vacation days in Philly is not my idea of a good time. We went to Maui instead. I'd invited my mom but she declined. It's a long flight. I can't leave your father for that long. Blah blah blah. It's Hawaii! C'mon!

Dinner was nice. We talked politics. They've become more staunchly liberal in hating Mr. Romney; in the face of Mr. Mormon their love of Obama has grown. Mine too. They are disgusted by the rampant and palpable racism that seems to drive Republican pundits' hatred of the President (go Mom and Dad!) They are proud in their non-racism, proud (as they should be) to defend a smart black man who looks a heck of a lot like their grandkids will when they grow up.

We also talked about Sandusky (ew...bad dude) and the relationship between THAT pedophile and the ones from my own sport. Did we have any culpability in not turning them in? Yes. I'd say so. I was a kid bordering on adulthood. I wish I'd done more.

We talked about movies. (See Argo, don't see The Master.)

Most notably they welled with tears upon my just sitting down at the table. It's been too long. I am happy. There are developments in my life - love, primarily - that they haven't appropriately shared in but are thrilled about nonetheless. They were clearly worried about me before; and maybe aren't so much anymore. I have someone that will take care of my heart. What parent doesn't want that for their kid?