My parents are no longer together, but individually, they are unusually clever people. I can remember happy days from my youth, seeing them in love. For the most part, they talked. They talked so much, and so much I would overhear and question, and they would always answer. They were (and are) very verbose, and I can confidently say my siblings and I are very much so. Larry and Josie are so smart in their own rights, they scare me in an exciting way.
One of my favorite points of youth was when I watched the Pleiades meteor shower with Mom and Dad. I don't know if Larry had been born yet, but I was old enough to appreciate it, probably around 5. I remember my mom waking me up after telling me the night before, and my sleep light with anticipation, vaguely dreaming of stars. My dad was laying out on blanket in the front lawn, still in his softball socks and pants. They were (and are) intellectually curious people, not without a sense of wonder. Laying on my back, the shooting stars captivated me, and I couldn't keep up with wishes. They seemed to come down too fast.
I can still remember my parents being very young. My dad was 25 when I was born, and my mom was 26; she turned 27 a day later, and my dad turned 26 in the next couple of months. They were essentially the age I am now, and I have fond memories of their friends coming around to play cards, talk and just be 20-somethings. It was a social atmosphere to grow up in. I was rarely bored, and my dad was an especially social creature. I grew up with teasing young men giving me a ribbing, and becoming a mouthy youth because of it. My mom took me to work as a waitress in a diner, and later as a bartender in supper club. I grilled all the staff probably more than they would have liked. Basically, I grew up around adults, talking to adults, and developed an odd demeanor because of it. My parents were also more poor than either is ready to admit, so these interactions were common treats I grew fond of.
I can't remember how old I was, but I was in grade school, before Jo was born. My parents were still very young, some point in their 30s. They were (and are) very competitive. Mom and Dad were in an especially giddy mood one afternoon, and they decided to take turns locking each other in the basement of what is now my mom's house. The latch is an external hook and eye, set at nearly the top of the door, so none of us could accidentally open it and fall down the stairs. They wanted to see how the other got out, and who could do it the fastest. There was no cellar door access, just the door in the hallway of the house.
My dad took a screw driver and carefully popped out a storm screen and pushed open the easiest, lowest window. He was always (and is) a naturally gifted athlete, in the aforementioned softball, and hockey too. He still golfs, and I will never beat him in pool. He easily hoisted himself up and shimmied out the window. He came through the front door, after pushing the window back in place. He refused to tell my mom how he did it, but it was obvious to her. To me, it was magic again.
She was in the basement for half the time he was. She popped out of the door after barely 10 minutes. She had rummaged around the basement and found a yellow ruler. She slid it through the crack in the old basement door and pushed up the hook, turned the handle and was out, absolutely beaming with her success. My mom has always been (and is) one to gloat. They are both arrogant in their own ways, but my mum is the one more likely to immediately dance around you after success. I've never beaten her in pool either, and she doesn't let me forget. My dad will just sit back and smirk despite himself, likely to laugh eventually. I am very much equal parts of them.
Despite the past becoming darker as time went on, I do not forget those little lights of youth, and what my parents were (and are). I have made (and will probably continue to make) some of the mistakes they made, but I will always, always remember those delightful, persevering strengths. Their curiosity lives in their children, the wit is sharp in both, and even when they are gone, my sibling and I are proof of how quick they both were (and are).
