Mama - and Papa - Mia!

I write about my parents every year since I started this blog. I'm pretty sure I've said so many great things about them that I'll purely be repeating myself today. But my parents are awesome, and they deserve to be told so as often as possible. So I'm going to say it all over again anyway.

Kids, give your parents some credit. Your parents have a reason for doing things the way they do. Your parents have your best interests at heart. Your parents love you more than you'll ever understand, even when you're so frustrated with them that you're sure they're conspiring to bring about your downfall. They're really not. They just want you to grow up to be your best self. They want you to become an intelligent, respectful, hard-working, capable adult.

Granted, this is not true of all parents. There are some real duds out there. And in that case, kids, find an adult to look up to who loves you and genuinely wants to help you get your best chance at life. They're out there. My parents are living proof.

If you have parents like mine, you are in great shape indeed. 

Like most kids, it took until I was an adult for me to really begin to appreciate what my parents did for me. I think it started when I was in college. I knew more than one girl who had no idea how to cook, or clean, or take care of herself (much less anyone else). In one extreme case, the girl got malnourished because she was literally living on gummy bears and Wheat Thins.

No free ride for these kids! Wait...

It was sad. These girls had parents who loved them, but who mistakenly believed that they needed to let their kids "be kids" and "enjoy their childhood," by never requiring them to do chores or fend for themselves in any way. Their parents waited on them hand and foot. So while they were very sweet, very fun girls, they were about as useless as a leaf blower in a tornado when it came to basic survival. They had no idea how to tidy things up, fix a basic meal, or even hold down a job.

I wonder how they handled things when they got married and had kids of their own? 0.o

"Let's learn to shoot our own food!"

The point is, when I reached adulthood, I was able to really understand how much my parents were looking out for me and helping me out throughout my childhood. I had to do chores, not because my parents wanted free slave labor, but so I would know how to take care of my home when I was on my own. I learned how to cook meals and bake goodies, not so my parents could kick back and feast on my labors (which I'm sure, especially at first, were not so delicious), but so I could eat well as an adult. They made sure I learned how to work. They cultivated my talents and skills. They even gave me an allowance to teach me the value of money.

None of those things seemed all that fun at the time (except maybe the allowance). But they gave me the skills I needed so that I could be a responsible adult, and a good wife and mother.

I feel sorry for kids whose parents don't do that for them.

The depth of my understanding about my parents grew even more when I had a child of my own.

As a kid, you love your parents unconditionally. They're your heroes. You can't imagine ever loving anyone more.


Then, when you have a child of your own, you realize that you never understood before how deep love can go.

A child's love for their parents is a drop of water compared to the well of love a parent feels for their child.

The only stronger kinds of love are the love we have for our spouse, and for our God.

And, to be fair, it's really just different kinds of love. I look at it like this: If I saw a car barreling down the street towards my husband, I would probably scream at him to run. I might even run towards him, or try to push him out of the way if for some reason he couldn't move himself. But, for the most part, he can take care of himself. A warning is probably all he would really need. And even though I love him more than anyone on this earth, I figure he can pretty much take care of himself.

Sharks, on the other hand...

A mother's love for her child, though, ties in to her very instincts. It's not just a heart thing, it's in every cell of your body, and hardwired into your brain. If you see a car barreling towards your child, you scream, yes, but you also sprint towards them with every ounce of adrenaline you have and race the car so you can get to them first and push them out of the way.

It's not something you have to stop and think about. You. Just. Run.

I'm not saying this from any kind of personal experience, but I can feel it in every fiber of my being. My love for my husband is deeper, but my love for my child is stronger in a different way. In a protective, mama bear, "you'll have to go through me to get to her" kind of way. My mother once sprinted across an apartment, when she was about 8 or 9 months pregnant, to grab my little brother who was hanging off the edge of a balcony. I doubt she had ever moved that fast before in her whole life, pregnant or not. A mother's love goes so deep, it's instinctive.

I think that's why it must be so hard on parents, especially mothers, when they lose a child. I'm not sure it's something I could ever handle. If Evie died, I would probably collapse in on myself like a black hole. The only thing that would keep me sane is if I had other kids who needed me. If I had to be strong for them, I could do it. But it would still just about destroy me.

So, back to my original point, it's only now that I'm a parent that I can really understand how much my parents love me. I never really knew before. But I get it now.

My dad is one of my heroes. He works so hard, but he always took time to be with his kids, too. I think I'm like him in a lot of ways. He would sometimes bring us home little treats from the grocery store. And he always brought us souvenirs when he had to go out of town.

I can't be away from Evie for more than a couple of days without wanting to bring her a little present. It's how I show her that I missed her.

Dad is also the one who used pet names for us the most, at least to my recollection. He still calls me "sweetie" just as much as he calls me "Cassie." I'm the same way with Evie. I swear I use pet names for her more than I actually use her given name.

My dad is the one I get my singing talent from, too. He never used it as much as I do - I'm kind of a show-off, I guess - but when he does sing, it's beautiful. He's got rich natural tone and such a warm, baritone voice.

And, of course, I look a lot like my dad. I don't have all the really skinny genes his DNA brings to the table, but my eyes are 100% his. And he used to have brown hair like me, back before it all went white.

I blame Joseph for that. ;)

The biggest thing, though, is I think I have a lot of my dad's temperament. He wears his heart on his sleeve. When he's worried, it shows. When he's angry, you know it. When he's happy, he's goofy. And when he's extremely happy or sad, he cries.

I'm the very same way. Only I'm a girl, with crazy hormones, so I probably cry a lot more than he does. But inevitably, if I see my dad crying, I'll start crying too. It just kind of sets me off. I remember, in particular, the daddy-daughter dance at our wedding.

He said something along these lines, "My greatest wish for you was that you would marry a man who loves you as much as I love your mother. And I think you found him." And he cried. And I started crying, too.

For the record, he's right. My parents have a love that will last forever. My dad adores my mom. You can see the love in his eyes every time he looks at her. And she feels the same way about him.

That's exactly what I found in Ben. Overwhelming, passionate, mutual adoration. I give a lot of the credit to my parents, for setting such a great example of what a marriage should be.

My dad is all kinds of wonderful. And I love him so much. :)

My mom is one of my best friends in the entire world. Where I'm a lot like my dad, I think I married a man who's a lot like my mom in his temperament.

Is that weird?

My mom has always been the steady, calm one. She's great at thinking before she speaks. She's fun and quirky and funny, but she also has a quieter, more introverted side. She's patient, and kind, and loving. She always puts her family first.

Personally, I think those are great qualities. That's probably why I married a man who's got most of those same traits. I certainly didn't have a lot of them, so it was important for me to find someone who did.

See? Not weird.

Don't get me wrong, my mom is not always mellow, and she's never boring. She's funny, and always makes me laugh. She's willing to let out her goofy side, especially when hanging out with her family. She dances in the kitchen, kisses her husband in front of her kids and grandkids, and she's a theater geek, like me. She's the one who gave me such a strong love for musical theater, and performing onstage.

My mom was the one who was always playing soundtracks from musicals and quoting movies. My dad was always on board, and usually has a few good movie quotes up his sleeve, too, but the bulk of the enthusiasm came from my mom.

Most importantly, my mom set the example for me on how to be a great mother. There are so many times during each day that I find myself reacting to Evie the way my mom would have reacted to me. Or I'll find myself thinking "what would my mom do?" when facing a particularly tricky situation with my own daughter.

Nobody is perfect, I know that. But I figure my mom is about as close to perfect as a human can get, especially as a mother. If everyone in the world had a mother like mine, we would have world peace, without a doubt. I figure the best thing I can do for my own child is to try to emulate my mother as much as possible.

My parents deserve every bit of praise and thanks I can heap on them. I probably don't say it often enough, but my parents are the best parents in the world. I'm so grateful for them, and I feel so blessed to be their daughter.

Mom and Dad, sorry I didn't recognize your sheer awesomeness when I was a kid. I know better now. :)