....Of Goodly Parents.

This past few weeks my Mom and Dad have been visiting us while getting my baby brother ready for another semester at BYU Idaho. I have thoroughly enjoyed their presence and already miss them terribly. Having them here has reminded me of a simple fact: I have been incredibly blessed with very goodly, honorable parents. This statement is not intended to be a brag. It is more an explanation as to why I have very little, if anything to complain about in my life.

This is particularly profound because of the kind of life my mom had while she was growing up. Amazingly, she stopped the cycle of a very destructive lifestyle and managed to raise us semi-normally. I say 'semi' because most of you know us and understand that we aren't really all that normal. The funny thing is, I am completely and utterly delighted by that. I am embarrassed to admit it took a long time to come to that conclusion...

I'm so grateful that although Peej, Joe and I were mortified by it, they drove a pickle green 1970 Volkswagen Bus. We drove cross country from Pennsylvania to Utah and even had to push start it a few times. To add to the completely conservative hippie feel, we listened to two albums during the whole trip: "The Monkees" 1976 greatest hits and "Anne Murray's 1980 Greatest Hits". The van eventually grew on us. Peej learned to drive the beast, affectionately named "The Herbmobile" and even produced a prominent dent or two. Chris and I got caught kissing in the back of it one night. (Even more incriminating, he was chewing my gum.) Not a Monkees song goes by when I don't reminisce of Herb and my parents, who I envisioned as 'Mormon Hippies'.

I'm also grateful Mom insisted on making my prom dresses, our squad's cheer leading uniforms and my wedding dress, which saved us boatloads of money. By the end of my prom attending career I attended 8 proms...seriously not as impressive as it sounds. (We grew up in a small town with not much to do and I jumped at any chance to get all gussied up so there were a lot of taken opportunities and many demands for dresses) Although the leg slits weren't as high as I wanted them and the bodices not as form fitting, they were beautiful and I cherish them to this day. Mom even made me a gloriously bubble gum pink dress with hugely puffy sleeves (I never claimed to be a fashion icon) for the 'Miss Teen of Utah' pageant. These treasures are more than sparkly material with embellishments. They are a way my Mom showed her love for me.

And although my parents gave me a curfew, wouldn't let me have my own car, grounded me from a Homecoming dance and utilized many other forms of cruel and unusual teenage punishment, I never had to wonder how they felt about me.

I will always remember the night before my wedding. Our home was full of family members and my old room was filled to bursting with food storage so that night was spent on a cot set up in the corner of my parents bedroom. I can't say that I really slept because we ended up talking most of the night. One of the best parts about that experience was that Mom and Dad already loved my husband-to-be like a son and were elated for the pending nuptials.

The story goes on. With every high and low we experience as a family, I come to appreciate them even more. My good friend Lindsay recently said that her "parents are like a fine wine...they keep getting better the older I get". This is an incredibly appropriate statement because I feel the same about mine.

Someday, I hope the same thing can be said of me--that I will be compared to a fine, aged wine instead of something like, say, fish because no one wants to be compared to stinky old fish.