There are two people that have been a constant in my life. For the past forty nine years, I’ve known I could count on them no matter what. When I became united with my husband, and then we became one more and then another and then another, they made room in their hearts for all of us. I hope I can count on them for many more years.
We take it for granted that the people that give us life will devote the rest of theirs to us. After all, our parents were, at one time, much younger and ambitious with their own dreams, dreams that would make them movie stars, war heroes, or astronauts, and these dreams didn’t include us.
When I see each of my parents now, and think about them younger and more carefree, I wonder if they knew what they were giving up when they had me. How could they? Parenthood takes more than we could ever imagine. Not one minute belongs to you, alone, ever again. Even when our children are grown and married, can we even stop worrying about them then?
When my parents retired, they didn’t take a cruise or buy an RV to while away that extra time they would now have to spend at their leisure. They didn’t pick up gardening or bridge, either. They did pick up and move to Nacogdoches. Greg and I had just bought an old house, a real fixer-upper. While my parents were still in Dallas, they’d come as often as they could to help us get the house ready to open as our photography studio. Looking back at the pictures, now, almost eleven years old, it seems that they were there for all of it. From refinishing the floors to painting the walls, from making curtains to putting in new grass, they were there working alongside us.
When they left Dallas, the only place they’d ever called home, they left family and friends behind and immersed themselves in making Nacogdoches their new home. They continued helping us in every way they could. Fortunately for us, the garden at the studio has become my dad’s pet project, one for which he has much passion. He makes sure it looks good from week to week no matter the season. We share a meal with them once or twice a week, and our son kicks back out their home as easily as he does his own.
They do all these things readily and joyfully and would never consider that they’ve given up anything for us. And, that selflessness is what I love and part of why I want to recognize them.
So in this month we’ve set aside to tell our loved ones how special they are to us, I want to thank you, mom and dad, for all you’ve done for me. I’m the person I am because of you.
Mom cleaning paint brushes during studio renovation in 2004.
Nathan helping Dad place the grass in front of 122 N Mound street studio.
Dad using his painting skills during the studio renovation.