March has been an interesting month for me. I’ve spent much of it sick, or dealing with sick children. I had a terrible virus toward the beginning of the month that gave me a six day 101-102 degree fever. While I was busy taking two weeks to get over that, Chris and Maggie got it, and Maggie spiked a 104 degree fever while Chris languished for days. During all of this, my completely wonderful parents came for a visit. We haven’t been blessed with each other’s company for two and a half years.

I was sick the entire visit. This was in some ways a mixed blessing. Usually before my parents visit I get very neurotic and try to clean, organize, and remodel every inch of our home within my power. I am on edge. I am stupid in my proud desires to look put together and overly competent. When this trip was planned I began forming a menu, a few low key but fun events, and some very special events. Then I got sick. I assumed that having gotten sick five days prior to when my parents would be arriving that I would be well on my way to healthy before I had to collect them from the airport. About forty-eight hours before their plane landed, I had faced the possibility that I might not be able to get absolutely everything done in time. Twenty-four hours later, I succumbed to the fact that there was simply no way I was going to pull off anything even remotely resembling a clean house seeing as how I was too sick to accomplish anything. I also hadn’t been to the store in days, so the gourmet dinners were looking pretty hopeless as well.

I picked them up from the airport. I was 101 degrees. I was also brain dead and had not remembered my debit card, cash, or military ID. The journey home required gas, a cash toll and an ID card. Amazingly, I did have my licence along for the ride. I have never been so unprepared for this trip in my life. I have also never been so sick that I almost wasn’t embarrassed to, immediately upon their arrival, ask my parents for money. At that point, I gave up any hope of dignified grown-up-ed-ness and let my parents take care of me for most of the remainder of the trip. They cleaned, shopped, cooked, installed shelves and hung stuff on walls, loved my children and let me sleep. I thoroughly enjoyed every second of being taken care of. I loved not being judged for my weakness, but being loved and respected, even when so feverish I hardly made sense. Chris and I have been making plans to try to move home to North Dakota when our time in the military is up in a year, and I wondered if maybe this visit would set me off to the idea. The exact opposite happened. If I could pull off moving to ND tomorrow, I would.

I have been away from home for so long that I forgot all of the wonderful things that make my family who they are. I love how if my parents say they will do something, they do. You never have to question their integrity. I love how they are always busy, always working to improve everything they are around be it people or a dirty stove. I love how my parents see a need and just fill it. I get so much joy watching them be grandparents; they are firm but patient, wiser and gentler after years of practicing on my generation. My children could use that kind of influence regularly. I love my parents. Sure, there are a lot of goofy things about them too, we are a family of quirks, no doubt, but there is just so much goodness I want to wrap myself up in it.