30 to 30

 ....the final countdown...

A sappy birthday-eve post...

My Mother

Lethally kind, she has taken care of me and helped me {and so, so many others} all my life.  Being her sixth child automatically gives people ideas or impressions about what I must be like.  When I was young, I wondered myself if a parent can love every child equally.  Which was worrisome because five others made it to her house before me {not counting Adele}.  But, even with lots of jokes by everyone in the family {"Anne Caboose"} I have never felt like an after-thought or just an addition to the family.  My mom has always individually, and uniquely, loved me.  I've realized this and seen it more as an adult and especially as a young struggling wife and mom.  She loves me and takes care of me just the way I need it and she always has.  What worked for some other kid wouldn't have worked for me which I'm sure is true in reverse.  My mother's prayers and actions have blessed me, carried me, and loved me into who I am now.  I often fail her with my thoughts and actions, which I could never be more sorry for because she's a mom who deserves the best of the best.  Instead, she has me and she loves me anyway.  When I do or think things that are just like her I feel like I've become someone and accomplished something with my life.  You readers have some great moms, but nothing like mine.  I hope I can love her and make her proud of her own life by the way I live mine. 

My Father

At about sixteen, I started to realize my dad had some quirks.  I had seen a few here or there before but with my older eyes {or maybe his more blatant behavior} I could see he was an onion....You know, with lots of layers.  In college, an neighbor from home called and said "Do you know what your dad did today?" and I wasn't 100% surprised.  Growing up, my dad taught me that I had a brain and it was a powerful resource.  He taught me to trust myself.  He encouraged adventure.  He read the scriptures with me and taught me how to study them and be able to teach them.  He's amused by each of his children.  His sense of humor, his interests, his ideas are all freely shared.  There is a bit of that in all of his kids.  I like to be like him.  My dad is generous and thoughtful and even secretly sentimental.  He's smart and wise {I'm hoping he just made a joke with that...}  But really, he is.  He answers the phone every time I call even when he knows I'm just fishing for lunch.  I like that he seems to like to be friends with me.  His love, support, and advice is easily trusted because I know he likes me.  I'm grateful for who he is and how he has lived his life because it's blessed me before and it is a blessing now.  I feel blessed to have a dad, to have parents who sacrificed to give me a good and stable life.  I'm grateful for his influence because that, in addition to all my mom is, has given me the ability to feel good about myself.  I couldn't come from such good parents and not be sort of good too, right?

Anyway...

I will always appreciate the life my parents gave me.  Through all of our trials as a family or those I have had on my own have always been shared.  They take what I carry and help me along.  I'm Joey Tracy now but I'm their Joey.  I like that.