Serendipity

I went to visit The Parents this weekend. My sister and best friend from high school had taken pity on me and had arranged for a baby shower this weekend in my hometown. I had a rough week, and I knew the timing of this visit would soothe my wounded soul.

I love going to visit The Parents. I love arriving home, knowing that they are both waiting for my arrival. I love the fact that there is always a kitchen (and pantry and storage room and extra freezer) stocked with good food. I love that there are no beds more comfortable (or with more pillows) than those at The Parents' house. I love that The Parents are early risers, like I am, making the days seem longer. I love that I get to order breakfast the first morning, and someone else will cook it. I love that I can have deep-thinking conversations about life, events, philosophies and the weather with The Parents. I love feeling like the world has stopped, while I am wrapped in the arms of a safe, loving haven.

Friday night, I actually slept blissfully, given the increasingly large state of my stomach and the fact that my energy-conscious parents don't run the AC at night. I woke up on top of the blankets, cooled by the ceiling fan, bathed in the warm glow of the just-after-6-a.m.-sunlight. I stretched lazily, did yoga and wandered into the kitchen, where my mom asked what I wanted for breakfast. I ordered a fruit smoothie (plug here for their Vita-Mix - it is a small appliance I greatly covet), and laughed as a debate ensued between my parents as to what fruits were suitable for that morning's concoction.

Mom and I took our smoothies outside where my Dad had begun working with his puppy, Roger on obedience skills (which were about as successful as training a 13-year-old to not roll his eyes when he disagrees with you). We sat on the edge of the deck, legs dangling, sipping our breakfast and playing fetch with Roger. We laughed as he shot back from the far corner of the yard, dropping his sloppy tennis ball at our sides and covering us with soft golden fur. I marveled at how cool the air seemed for mid-summer and how wonderful the gentle breeze felt on my skin.

We talked of simple things - Roger versus Charlie (the dog of my teen years who passed away just before I graduated from college). We spoke of the weather, the progress of dad's fruit trees, the plans for their upcoming camping trip, updates on the neighbors, memories of past family outings and what the day held; things that seemed to be of utmost importance in that second of time.

I sat, mesmerized, slurping the last of my smoothie through my straw, just to grate on Mom's nerves and remind her that some things never change. I tried not to laugh as Roger spent his time chasing my dad's bootlaces while Dad tried to leash-train him. I inhaled the clean air of a small town, relaxed as the sun warmed my skin, felt Baby Girl come to life inside me. Then, we finished our breakfast, brushed ourselves off and returned to the house for a the start of the day.

I spent a lifetime anxiously awaiting the day I could move away from The Parents. I spent the morning wishing that I could have more of these quiet Saturday mornings on the back deck, encapsulated in absolute contentment.