‘Til We Meet Again
After finally getting into bed at 2 a.m., I found myself twisting and turning unable to sleep. Granted, I’ve been on the sofa for a week and feel like I have four toddlers Riverdancing on my lower back, but the heat and discomfort have been worth it to host my parents during their visit to NYC. For the record, they are officially teenagers again. I found myself up until 3 a.m. virtually every night of their visit and never took a day off from work – which meant a 6 a.m. wake-up call. They ran the streets with their friends every night and found me, arms crossed over my chest, each time they walked into the apartment. The mommy-dinners were obscene – my caloric intake this week was at an all-time high. The clean-up following my mom’s cooking however, had me scrubbing, wiping and mopping for close to two hours each night of their visit. This morning at 4 a.m. my parents were up and dressed, forcing me off my tingling right arm and careening straight into my glass coffee table. My mom laughed and suggested I try sitting up, rather than taking off at a sprint when someone wakes me – thanks mom. Fast forward to their boisterous JFK airport drop-off at 7:15 this morning where my dad realized he left his driver’s license (and only ID) at my neighborhood gas station. Faced with driving from Queens back to my home, I simply parked, went inside and pleaded with the Delta Air and TSA folks to not force my dad to stay behind. “For the love of God,” I cried, “You can’t leave him here with me.” Their perplexed and merciful glances yielded a pass to have him board with an additional security check. Unfortunately, dad needed to use the bathroom and I was mistakenly escorted through security, stripped, and searched; my vacant, but tear-filled eyes stared forward in complete submission. It was a mixture of Denzel in the Glory whipping scene and the Color Purple’s Celie upon seeing Nettie across the field of flowers. When the TSA agent finally realized I wasn’t 70, I was angrily ushered out of the private search area and the four guards who had taken turns probing, prodding and checking everything short of my colon apologized for the inconvenience. Dad and mom stood outside and actually asked me, “You all done?” I said, I’ll see you guys on Friday – if I don’t suffer an aneurysm on my drive to the office. They hugged and kissed me before the Delta supervisor personally walked them to their gate, laughing the entire way up the ramp. …who knew the additional security search was for me! Long story long… I have two days to sleep, get my Maryland license changed to a NYS license, pack and be back at their place by Friday. Pray for me… I think I just threw up in my mouth a bit.
With the apparent switching of roles – where our parents become the children and we become the responsible adults – should we surmise that we may also address them in a more authoritative tone?
Keep passin’ the open windows…