Dear 70,
My mom says if a person dies before you, people say they
tragically died too young. If they die after you, they lived a good life. This is perhaps both funny and true. Both
my parents have reached you this past month and I find myself reflecting on you and a
bit in awe of what they’ve offered me.
I haven’t known them for all of you, but I believe all 70 of
their years play into all 40 of mine. Both North Carolina natives with strong
values of family and generosity, they created a safe space that I feel led my
brother and I to be life long learners and seekers.
Here I sit today wondering what stories to share.
I could tell you how my dad coached my basketball team for
years, how he always got me out of any jam-usually involving a car or how still
to this day I have not a single doubt in my mind I could call him for any
favor.
I could tell you how my mom cooked and washed the dishes
every night after working all day without complaint, how she listened more than
she talked to my endless storytelling and arguing or how still to this day when
she tells me she is praying for me I have such gratitude that she is on my
side.
But for some reason, there are two particular stories that
at this very moment stand out. (Don't worry Dad, this won't be about the time you left me at church).
When I was in the 8th grade, I wrote "Math Sucks" on my book cover. Side note to the young people out there: book covers were
made out of brown paper grocery bags and they protected something called a book
which is how we had to learn in the olden days before the internet. Back to Math Sucks…I’m not sure why I wrote
that on my book cover, but I think it had more to do with fitting in than it
did with a dislike for math. Once my dad saw it, he immediately insisted I make
a new book cover and while I can’t remember his exact words, I remember he said
something like, ‘we don’t say things like that in this house’. Through this action and many others, my dad taught
me that we value education. He taught me we are respectful. He taught me that we have gratitude for the opportunities
we have in our life. He taught me that we can do hard things. And while I didn’t
really hear it for years and I’m
still trying to hear it, he was showing me that belonging is more important than
fitting in.
Fast forward to senior year and I can picture my mom and me
on the blue love seat in our den watching “My So Called Life”. Why
this show didn’t have a bigger following and only lasted one season, I never understood, but my mom and I
watched together weekly. Side note to the young people out there: when I was a
child we had to watch our favorite shows on the night they came out on
something called a TV which was the only way to watch in the olden days before
DVR and Netflix and tablets. Back to the loveseat…I remember loving to watch this show with
my mom. It felt like such an important thing, just the two of us sitting there
watching. It was perhaps a foreshadowing of all the times my mom would comfort
me on a couch as an adult- when Jimmy lost his job, when we were delayed, again, from traveling back to Ethiopia to pick up Gabre or simply by brushing my hair. She taught me that a mother listens, a
mother comforts her child in sorrow, and that a mother doesn’t have to ‘fix’
anything- to love and pray is always enough.
So thank you 70. Thank you for the 70 years you have blessed
my parents with that have blessed me. Here’s to many more blessings to come.
Love,
Me
