06 May 2009
But today, distance and situational impotence provoke me to turn here--a corner of the interwebs I'm sure hardly anyone visits anymore except in the hopes of seeing wedding pictures (which I promise will come one day)--to tell you what I can about my parents.
First. They're the kind of parents who said swears even when we were young. They're the kind who told us at young ages that they were deviant kids, and who described to us with a glimmer in their eyes (sometimes a wink, sometimes a tear) their forms of rebellion. They're the kind who really really couldn't wait to give us the sex talk because more than anything they loved to watch us squirm. They're the kind who didn't leave the room to have a fight. And I start with all this because I think it's important to point out that they are flawed, but in that rare way where they never expected us to think that they weren't.
Second. The most important thing they've taught me: they would always love me, more than anything, no matter what.
Third. Some key things I've learned about them (by watching and testing, as all kids do...)
They're honest--more honest than the vast majority of people I believe I've met in my adult life.
They mean harm to no one. Not a soul. Ever.
They're learning as they go.
They believe, above most things (but not all), in the inherent humor of all situations.
Behind those big mouths, they feel things very very deeply, both for themselves and for others.
Fourth. The most important thing I think I can say to them right now: I believe in you.
Since there's nothing I can do to stop the hurting, I thought I would at least stand for the truth and declare the unassailable fact that John and Lynn Forester have only ever tried to do what they truly thought was right, and when they've failed (as all do) it's been the result of all-too-common human frailty, rather than malicious and selfish plotting. I've never been more proud and grateful than in this moment to have been lucky enough to be their daughter.