Why?
Well, my life is simply far happier today than it was a year ago. I live in a city I love surrounded by great friends. I have a job that makes me smile, without stress that follows me home at the end of the day. True, my 2 bedroom, ocean view apartment is now a 1 bedroom-split; my new car is now a Charlie Ticket; and I have to get by on half the income...
But I wake up happy. I start each day on my own terms. Some mornings I have the pleasure of waking up beside a man who has forever raised the bar of what I should and can expect in a relationship.
I went home to California this past weekend to visit my greatest support system, my parents. I feel lucky to have such and open and equal relationship with both my mother and father.
Sunday morning I awoke to a breakfast feast and the LA Times Book Review waiting for me to peruse. After we finished eating and brewed a second pot of coffee, my parents revealed a delicious devil's food chocolate cake dusted in powdered sugar. On that cake was a single candle.
They understand me. More than anyone else in my life they understand how heartache can take the most unexpected turns. Tears can fall and blossom into happiness, great loves can be lost and found again.
"What should we sing?" asked my father, as he lit the solitary candle.
"I've got just the thing," said my mother, rifling through her cd's before slipping her selection into the stereo.
'One Hand in My Pocket,' by Alanis Morisette blared in the morning light that flooded the kitchen.
I'm broke but I'm happy
I'm green but I'm wise...
"We should dance!" she said.
And so my father took my mother's hand and I lifted Dashiell up into my arms (it had been a disappointment for him, too).
And what it all comes down tois I haven't got it all figured out just yet...
There we were, three crazy Saldivars on Easter morning - dancing, singing, laughing, crying and eating a big slice of chocolate cake for breakfast.
It doesn't get much better than that.
4 comments:
Aww, that's sweet. You should send it along to Reader's Digest with a picture of your cooter attached.
But in all seriousness, Happy Unniversary.
my parents are like mexican version of Leave It To Beaver.
ask anyone who has met them.
:)
you were in california and didn't call me? well, i guess I can understand that after this posting. i remember the last time I was at your house in Moorpark you put on the alanis morsette song "perfect" and were nearly in tears about how much it reminded you about your relationship with your mother. good to see some relationships can blossom into better stronger beings.
I am so happy how this year has been for you. You deserve it.
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