I've been feeling... nostalgic lately. Even though it seems like we don't have much time to just sit and think quietly amongst ourselves anymore, I still find a few silent moments at work between jobs and customers.
Yesterday I randomly started thinking about how much my parents must love us kids. Andrew and I have only been married for 8+ months, and I can see why some couples decide to have kids really soon after getting hitched. I am starting to get really excited bout having a baby "bundle of joy" that hopefully will be ridiculously good looking and have the dimples and bright blue eyes of his daddy. It'll be nice, once we establish residency, that we will feel as though we have roots somewhere. A firm footing. Somewhere that eventually we will start our family.
Anywho, started thinking about when I was younger, and for some reason the memory of me standing in the kitchen (I believe it was the one on Paddock) and listening to my mom on the phone talking to my dad. I was young because I could barely see over the counters and they were talking about 'The Lion King'. I remember I had been collecting the McDonald's toys, trying to get the whole set... plus I was totally into Mickey Ds. I remember my mom telling my dad that there was a McDonalds on the way home from his work that said that the toy in their stores' was one of the last few I needed (I think it was "Scar" actually!). My dad said sure he would pick me up a 'Happy Meal' and try to make sure it had the right toy in it.
Simple. Random Acts of Kindness.
Now is that good parenting or what? Some might say they were totally spoiling me by calling 20 McDonalds just to find out if they had the toy I wanted. However, I don't remember begging them to look it up, I remember asking if there was a way to get the last ones. Then I could see my mom grabbing the phone book and start dialing. Spoiled? Maybe. But I saw pure love in this memory. For them, they might remember this incident and think "It was just a toy". But do they know that I still have that set in one of my tubs in the closet? Maybe not. I'm 22 now and long past the days of collecting 'Happy Meal' toys, but I can still remember how kind my parents were to me, just trying to take care of me.
This brought a tear to my eye as the last of the memory faded into black and I was brought back into my work reality of florescent lights and running copiers. I sent them both a message about how glad I am that they are my parents and that I know they sacrificed a lot for us kids to make sure that we were always taken care of. They raised us right: and look at us now! 4 out of 5 already married in the temple, 3 out of those 4 have kids, and my parents posterity continues to grow in righteousness. It's enough to bring tears to anyone's thoughtful eyes.
Thanks Mom & Dad!
Love You Long Time.
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