3/30: Your Parents
Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 - Your first love
Day 03 - Your parents
Day 04 - What you ate today
Day 05 - Your definition of love
Day 06 - Your day
Day 07 - Your best friend
Day 08 - A moment
Day 09 - Your beliefs
Day 10 - What you wore today
Day 11 - Your siblings
Day 12 - What’s in your bag
Day 13 - This week
Day 14 - What you wore today
Day 15 - Your dreams
Day 16 - Your first kiss
Day 17 - Your favorite memory
Day 18 - Your favorite birthday
Day 19 - Something you regret
Day 20 - This month
Day 21 - Another moment
Day 22 - Something that upsets you
Day 23 - Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 - Something that makes you cry
Day 25 - A first
Day 26 - Your fears
Day 27 - Your favorite place
Day 28 - Something that you miss
Day 29 - Your aspirations
Day 30 - One last moment
Oh, where to start?
I have two sets of parents. My mother, Diane, and father, Glenn, divorced when I was in kindergarten, which usually gets me a look of sympathy when I tell people, but good God, even that wasn't quick enough. I honestly don't even understand why the two of them got married in the first place; I don't remember one single time my parents ever got along. My father doesn't believe that marriage is forever, and my mother ... well, she's just difficult to get along with.
Both of my parents remarried - my father twice, in fact - so I also have my step-dad, Chris, and my step-mom, Zonida.
I don't see them often - my father and I usually went to a few baseball games a year together, saw each other for a few hours on holidays ... and that's it. I'm better off treating my mother as a friend, because that way I don't get disappointed. I mean, there was a period of five years where she didn't talk to me except on Christmas. She never calls or texts to ask how I'm doing - my father does, about once a month, but never my mother. I see her every Sunday during football season and most Mondays, and outside that, we don't really talk.
It used to bother me. I used to wish she'd take more of an interest in my life, but she never did, and I've accepted that. What does bother me, however, is explaining this to people, because if they don't have parents like mine, they just don't understand. Philip, for example, can't understand why I don't care if I see my parents when we go visit Seattle in April. He doesn't get why my mom still hasn't texted me back about it, in fact, since I told her a week ago that we'd be coming to visit.
But it is what it is, and that's just my mom.