Ah, a New Year is almost here and you know what that means. It’s time for the media (and blogging) world to inundate society with the 2011 “Best Of…” lists. The best viral videos. The best stump speech. The best crying on television. And how can we end 2011 without the best of Justin Bieber?
So you will have to forgive me because I, too, am going to give you a “Best Of” blog post today. But wait! This is not a typical “Best Of…” and because I can’t name a single best of Bieber moment, I will have to tell you what I like best about my parents. Seriously. My Mom and Dad are pretty wonderful folks and here’s why I think so.
First, my mom. She is amazing because she does not act her age (and I don’t mean this in a bad way). My mom has a lot of energy. Once when I was a teenager, my mom told me that she loved running – that it had been one of her favorite things to do as a child. Years later, on a visit home from college, I discovered that my mom was running three or more miles a day. At that time I could not run thirty feet, much less three miles. In 2006, my mom and I ran a half marathon together and, next March, we will run together again in a full marathon. I don’t know if I inherited her energy level, but she set the right example for me to follow.
Second, my dad. When I was a child living in a rural town in Tennessee, my father frequently traveled on business. Sometimes he would take me with him. Quite often the business trips were extended so that we could visit The Statue of Liberty, Niagara Falls, The Laura Ingalls Wilder Home in Mansfield, Missouri (I was a huge Little House fan), and Tiger Stadium in Detroit.
It was in Detroit, at age ten, where I saw Reggie Jackson hit a triple as the Oakland A’s were playing the Tigers. After the game, Dad and I returned to our car. We had parked on a side road along with other people who were attending the game. Once inside the car, we discovered that someone’s poor parking job had barricaded many cars that were trying to leave.
Apparently people in Detroit have no problem taking matters into their own hands. My Dad and I sat in awe as five large men physically moved the offending vehicle so that all could leave the parking area. As we sat and stared at this exhibit of Motown strength, my dad said in a calm voice, “Grace, why don’t you go ahead and lock your door.” It was trips like this one, and so many others with my father that gave me real world experiences outside of my small town home.
That’s all. Not so bad, was it?
And for the photo portion of my post, I found some pictures from 2004.
This is my mom hiking in Virginia on the Appalachian Trail. She is with my dog, Pete. I had him for thirteen great years.
This is my dad with his father (who turned 92 this month) in Washington, DC standing in front of the World War II Memorial.
Like father, like son.
Enjoy 2012!
