It wasn’t until coming to college that I could finally muster the courage to say it. Years of teenage angst, which entailed the typical phases of moodiness and unwarranted sass beginning in middle school, forestalled this great discovery. For most of my teenage life, this striking realization went unnoticed even though it was right in front of me. But now I can disclose it with utmost confidence — my parents are undoubtedly the best friends I’ve ever had.
It’s unclear at what moment I made the decision to deem the personalities of my parents as uncool, or why their weirdness was underrated for so long a period of time. And there are still remnants of my middle school and high school self regarding my mom and dad. I’m still irked by my dad’s incessant beeping of the car horn when he arrives down the street to pay me a visit, summoning every single passerby within earshot to turn their heads my way and wonder what has possessed this driver to cause such a commotion. And my mom’s unabashed screaming or ear-shattering laughter over things which, to everyone else, are never as startling or just not as funny as her volume would suggest.
At U.Va. I’ve experienced a newfound respect for my parents as the bizarre and intriguing people they are rather than as mere disciplinarians or caretakers, a narrow gaze I held when I was younger. They are some of the most fun-loving and spirited people I’ve ever met. They’re the life — also the noise — of every party. They laugh a little too hard at their own jokes and were the parents growing up who sang and danced in public. Their worldly curiosity — though at times has left our family stranded in the woods or themselves alone and drifting out to sea — is nerve-racking yet inspiring. My parents consistently hold an optimistic frame of mind or, on the rare occasion they don’t, they look for something that will put them in one.
My current admiration for my mom and dad is on account of my missing them. Though my mom is loud, weekly phone calls will never render her voice with its authentic sound or her laugh with the intensity I experience in person. Nor does anyone ever publicly showcase as much excitement to see me as my dad with the horn on his steering wheel. Sometimes I could benefit from some of the unreserved enthusiasm that my parents so wonderfully emulate.
Too many mornings was the dialogue with my dad nothing more than a “goodbye” I sputtered out through the piece of toast in my mouth as I went out the door. The habitual reaction to my mom’s chipper “Love you, have a great day!” was a reluctant return of those four words preceded by an exaggerated and painfully prolonged sigh. Looking back now my “I’m not a morning person” temperament seems simply overdone. I wish I knew then how to value their unbridled spirits and dedication to happiness because those qualities make for the best of companions.
Read More
A bite of home at Barbie’s Burrito Barn
By Sophie Guettel | 22 hours agoBarbie’s Burrito Barn is more than just a restaurant — it is a testament to the dreams and hard work of its owner.
The fluffiest Swedish coffee bread
By Finn Trainer | YesterdayWith its semi-sweet flavor and cloud-like texture, this Swedish coffee bread is a calming, delicious treat to enjoy this finals season.
Cleaning out my closet — and my mind
By Julianne Saunders | YesterdayCleaning out my closet has become more than a seasonal comfort — it has also taught me that I should not rely on school or social media for fulfillment and peace.
