My parents dropped my car off today, complete with new radiator hose and spare keys. We sat in my living room, judged one another, and danced around the restaurant choice for the evening. I don’t care. Where do you want to eat? With Korean as the winning option, the Tsukada clan hopped in the car and sloshed through the light drizzle into town. Conversation picked up, the eyes stopped rolling and we settled into our normal routine of recent news and internal thoughts. After a quick ice cream stop, my father revved up the car and before I knew it, I was back on my porch waving goodbye into the darkness. It was a typical evening of kim chi and banana walnut ice cream except that today was my parents’ 24th wedding anniversary.
Twenty-four years of time that stemmed from an autumn day in Ticonderoga, NY when two people took a leap of faith. It was a small leap that, in some ways, rivaled the nerve-racking trepidation of Felix Baumgartner before his 23 mile free fall to break the speed of sound.
And so, my dear reader–we are gathered online today to celebrate the marriage of two people who mean so very much to one person in particular. Me.
“Thank you for spending your precious 24th wedding anniversary with your only daughter. Thank you for making her feel, every single day, that she is worthy of your love. Thank you for giving her the freedom to live on her own and the permission to come home whenever she needs. Thank you for deciding to move to New York City, to work in the World Trade Towers, and to meet one another. Thank you for finding the love and trust needed to start a family and keep that family strong, now and always.”
Oh stop crying. It’s always easier to be sentimental about your parents AFTER they’ve left your house.
*And thank you for finding the spelling, tense and grammar mistakes in every blog post. Every single one.