Post 4: Your parents.

Claudia and DJ. Out of all my friends and family members, I'm on the phone with them the most frequently and for the longest stretches of time. My favorite part about calling them is the salutation section of our conversation. It goes something like this:

Ring, ring, ring, ring...

Mom/Dad: Hello?
Me: Heeeeeey!
Mom/Dad: HEEEEYYYYY! Ruuuuuuth!

It makes me smile every time. Once, my mom gave me this weak hey, and I panicked. After refusing to admit what was wrong for several minutes, Mom finally admitted that...her flower seedlings just weren't coming along as planned. Thankfully, these are the low points I hear about from them.

My parents did not meet in college. My mother was already working as a medical technician in Grand Forks, ND, and my father had just returned from the Air Force, having already finished ag/forestry school (right?). My mother was working with Gail Meberg, who set the two up as two young people that were new or sort-of-new to town. They met for a date (perhaps a picnic?) and decided they would be friends, and just that.

My mother moved to Mountain View, CA, and when my dad decided to attend an (aviation mechanics?) school in Oklahoma, he surprised his own parents by decided to drive to Oklahoma by way of California. Heh. From there, phone calls continued, and my parents decided to get married.



They lived in Oklahoma for a bit...and decided Alaska would be the right step. My mom never said why they chose Alaska, but if you ask my dad, he'll tell you it's because they were as far away from their parents as possible. The mission wasn't to get away from their family, but to become two people that relied on each other and no one else. When Tim and I moved to Cincinnati after our first year of marriage, I knew my dad was really proud of us for taking on the same challenge. It makes me a little weepy to think about my dad being proud of the relationship Tim and I have built.



I haven't heard a ton of stories from my parents about their time in Alaska. They lived there at least seven years, if not more, because they had all their kids up there and we lived there until us twins were two. The only story my mother told me from their child free life was about going on a boat ride with friends and having to walk on the log bridge to a dock---I pictured single logs stringed together at the end with a rope strung along side as a hand rail. Mom said she completely panicked----she walked out a couple leg lengths and then froze and couldn't move no matter how hard she tried. A few people had to go out and get her, and it was really hard for me to picture my mom not being able to conquer anything; I've never seen my mom fail. Which might also explain extreme disappointment over seasonal seedlings.

If I could say anything to my parents today, it would be to apologize for years 12-18 of my life. I'm sorry for all of those typical under-developed frontal lobe/teenage things I did, and thank you for forgiving me over and over. Also, to thank them for pushing me to study music. I love you both so much, and thank you for your support and surprises.