"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." ~ T. E. Lawrence
Twice blessed. Actually, so much more. But for now I’m looking at two sweet and loving parents who have come to visit me in the past month. My dad came to visit this weekend.
My parents and I have that funny relationship that many offspring seem to relate to. I miss them terribly when they aren’t around (they live on an island in the Bering Sea of Alaska, far from my cozy Bellingham, Washington dwelling). Their idiosyncrasies drive me absolutely batty when we’re together. It’s certainly not love/hate though. My friends tell me that my parents are cute. That very cuteness is what drives me crazy at times, but deep down I think they’re pretty adorable too. And of course I love them unabashedly. So naturally, when they leave again I’m back to missing them terribly.
Thursday evening my dad graced my humble home with his presence. I think we chatted until 1:00 AM. He was my date for a company Christmas Party that I was helping plan the following evening. Sweet and cute that he is, he wanted to make sure he looked the part of a proper date I would bring and insisted on purchasing a new tie, new pocket silk, and even got a manicure! I donned a Rudolf-nose-red, strapless, cocktail dress with a big bow on the side, a pair of silver stiletto heels, my mother’s pearl necklace, and tossed my hair up with bobby pins. We looked a fine pair, I must admit.
Saturday saw us visiting with my grandma over a cup of coffee, doing a bit of Christmas shopping, and finally off to a weekend road trip down to Portland. Without too much coercion necessary, I was able to suggest a fantastic Moroccan restaurant in Seattle as our dinner stop. He loved it! We sat on cushions on the floor, ate scrumptious b’stilla, hare in paprika sauce, and braised lamb with our hands – I even danced with a belly dancer! And the road beckoned.
The purpose of our Portland road trip was to reunite with my dad’s aunt whom he hadn’t seen in 30+ years. She looks and sounds just like her sister, my grandma. We shared a meal, heard stories of our family’s history, and caught up on more recent history. I met a few of my second cousins; I think that’s what you’d call us (this whole extended relations title business confuses me…). Both are beautiful, sweet girls and I’m excited to keep in touch with them. I got to see where my dad grew up, hear how much it had changed, and glimpse the city through his eyes. The area was dressed in its finest fall colors still and it was a lovely sight!
I took Monday off so that we could fully enjoy our long weekend road trip. There was an unplanned and random wonderfulness to the trip, though at times it strained this poor planners nerves. As we were departing Portland, we spotted a highway sign for Hood River – one of my favorite places, filled with adventurous memories. The road wound along the picturesque Columbia River and I pointed out what I imagined where phenomenal rock climbing spots along the way. We wandered through downtown Hood River in search of lunch and discovered a quaint gastro pub within a stunning, old hotel. The meal was impeccable: pineapple pulled pork, chili prawns and mussels, apple salad, and jasmine rice. I’ll be back. I love that we made the hour-long detour merely for the sake of a delicious lunch. That evening my dad got to meet my boyfriend for the first time. I cooked us all some red Indian chicken curry and we talked until the wee morning hours.
And then he was gone.
Until the next time, I have some incredible memories. Thanks, dad.