The house that built me

My parents. They're good ones.

I mean, really. I'm very blessed.

And yet sometimes i'm a total asshole about everything, and a brat. I forget how much they are a part of me and how much i need them to exist.

I am so much my mother sometimes it scares me. I am sarcastic like her, i'm funny like her, i am passive aggressive like her. I have her teeth. her nose, and her love of "i love Lucy." I took all my cues form her. I learned how to be a woman from her, but yet she spent a lot of time feeling like she wasn't good enough, which, I'm sure is where I get it.

I don't know if she'll ever believe otherwise. I don't know if anyone has told her that's she's beautiful is a long time.

And that breaks my heart because i've been so focused on her not understanding me, i never took the time to understand all she is.

She's my mom. She's my biggest fan (and worst critic) she taught me how to say please and thank you. She taught me to share and how fight for what i wanted and how to ride a bike and that family is important and that you re best is good enough as long as it authentic, and that personality is important. She let me be angsty. she had rules. she didn't let me get away with anything. She taught me to be grateful and to say prayers.

Then there is my dad. He's certainly not perfect, but he's a good man. One of the best, in fact. He's funny, and he's dependable and kind and fun. He likes to laugh. I have his mouth.  I have his build (for better or worse) his spending habits (oops). His eyes, and hair. He is my best protector and supporter. He taught me to be kind, he taught me to get my hands dirty. he's taught me that mistakes are ok, forgiveness is important. He taught me how to work hard, how to throw a softball, how to stick up for myself. (which i might still be learning how to do). He taught me that people are priorities. He loves Jesus.

Lately, i've been having a tough time trying to maintain my worlds. My heart is in two places and i'm not loving my family well.  That's a hard truth to swallow. My parents do their best. They work hard to love me the best way they know how.

How can i expect anything more than that?

So, It's time to right some wrongs. To love well. To make time. To get back to myself. To realign my priorities. To plant my heart solidly here and there.

There are not many people in your life who will take a bullet for you. Who will sacrifice what they have so your life can be better. Who will let you come home no matter how many times you fuck up. Who can always see the good in you and know your heart.

I can't imagine what it's like to be the parents of me. What its like to worry that my life continues to be a mess. Wondering if i'll ever get married. or get a real job. or stop day dreaming. Worrying about being 4 hours away and who will have my back here. Sometimes i wish I could see myself in their eyes. perhaps then the image of myself wouldn't be so distorted. I don't make it easy on them, that's for sure, but they sure do love me and think i'm amazing.

Tonight, i missed home. i missed my mom and dad, and that feeling i used to get about where i came from.

I am nothing fancy. My childhood was nothing spectacular. We didn't go on vacations. They didn't buy me super expensive clothes, or my own car but i never felt like i was missing out on anything. My memories are happy ones for the most part, tempered by the reality of a broken world.

The house that built me was a good one, and it was full of love.