Loved It When They Got Here… Loved It Even More When They Left [500]

by Julie Carriker

13 February 2009

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Flash Writing

Inspired by good-bye

I hadn’t seen my parents in over a year, and they’d never seen my home or my new city, so I was eager for their visit. I watched the clock all day, anticipating their arrival.

 

It was evening before they pulled up, and by the time we’d partially unloaded their car our house—especially my bedroom, where they’d be sleeping—looked like a 747 had jettisoned its baggage compartment. Suddenly the large rooms in our 2200 square foot house looked small.

Dad insisted on driving us to dinner—kind of like ‘Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride,’ with all the quick stops, turns from the wrong lane, and cutting other drivers off. By the time we’d returned home Lee and I were ready for a good night’s sleep. Unfortunately, this wasn’t to be, due to the frequent door slamming every time Dad got up to use the bathroom and he and Mom’s ‘whispered’ conversations.

I adjusted my pillow and wondered how long they were planning to stay.

The next morning I drank my coffee in a finally quiet house and waited for them to get up. I was eager to show them why I love Savannah, and we were taking them to a concert at six that evening.

Mom and Dad made it downstairs sometime around eleven, but weren’t finished with breakfast, showering, and dressing until after two. We wouldn’t have time to see much, but would make the most of it. And today Lee was driving.

 

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion over the next nine, (or was it ninety?), days. They got ready slowly after sleeping late—we got out of the house before noon only one time—they walked slowly, they ate slowly, and it took them a couple hours each night to wind down and be quiet before going to sleep. Then, of course, the door slamming would resume.

It was like dealing with two small children, but at least there were two of us to be ‘parents.’ Well, most of the time, anyway. We had to make sure they’d eaten, or taken their pills, or gone to the bathroom before we left home. Still, we sometimes had to find a public restroom, or get them a bite to eat, on a moment’s notice.

Our house began to look and smell like a toxic waste dump with half-empty soda and beer cans, candy wrappers, used tissues, and bags of dirty clothes scattered about, as well as occasional crumb-filled plates and takeout food containers.

 

Finally, the longed-for words, ‘We’re heading home Wednesday.’

Wednesday they followed their usual pattern of coming downstairs after eleven, but at least they were both dressed. We loaded their car for them—somehow managing to find a place for everything—but they still weren’t ready until nearly one. We stood on the sidewalk, waving as they slowly pulled away

 

I did enjoy showing my parents a piece of my life, but I enjoy it even more that we finally have our life back.

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TitleDate Posted
Without Good-byes13 February 2009

Alternate Drabbles

TitleDate Posted
Disappearing Icons29 August 2009

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