I have always envied people who live near their parents...i'd hear them gripe and complain and i'd think..."wouldn't that be cool to live close to your parents so you could see them whenever you want - wouldn't that be a luxury instead of maybe a week out of a year and then again when there's a funeral to attend?" Tomorrow i load up the kids and head out to Iowa...a place where i use to joke "it's not the end of the world but you can see it from there...the big thing in the summer is to sit on my brothers roof and watch the storms roll in...i try to time the vacation so we get at least one tornado warning while we're there...
But lately the trips to Iowa have taken a different tone...my grandma is 98 this year, and my dad is fighting cancer and i find myself holding on to them a little bit longer and begging for stories about when they were younger...you know, the stories they've told a hundred times that i use to be able to say in my sleep...like the one where my aunt met Elvis Presley and was so nervous that when he asked her who her favorite singer was she blirted out "Pat Boone" (totally true)...Elvis thought it was funny BUT for years afterwards when anyone said something STUPID we'd say "Pat Boone."
Every spring my mom and i visit the graves of my great grandparents to lay flowers but the last couple of years she's taken to pointing out the spot where she and dad want to be buried and i find myself being jolted by an incredible burst of pain...like, someday it's going to be my turn to bring my daughter here to lay flowers and honestly, i don't think i'm ready for it, and time which use to move so slowly in Iowa is now suddenly moving too fast for me...but you know what..?
Tomorrow is a time for celebration because i'm going to go home and see my family and even if i win the lottery someday...I will never be as rich as i am now, at this moment.
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