Since we're about midway through the parental holidays, I figured I'd take some time and have a sincere post. Well, sincere without angry, maybe. I don't know. I always try to be a little sincere if I can. Maybe I'm getting sidetracked here. The thing is, I wouldn't be alive without my parents. And I don't mean that in the "they conceived me" way, perverts. I mean that in the "I wouldn't have survived this long without their help" way. That's a pretty important way. A lot more important and infinitely more worth dwelling upon than that whole other part. Yuck.
Throughout my life, they've seen me want to be a lot of different things. Off the top of my head, I can remember NBA star, musician, and I think an astronaut was in there at some point too.
Here's the thing. I was never particularly talented at any of these areas. I could dribble and shoot, but I was never particularly fast. I wasn't that great on defense. I could play along to songs, but I couldn't solo. I couldn't really write my own chord progressions. And I don't even want to think about me flying into space. I can't handle the kiddie roller coasters at theme parks.
Simply put, my parents believed in me anyway. They supported me. I was not Michael Jordan, I was not John Mayer, and I was definitely not Buzz Aldrin, but they bought me the equipment and took me to the practices anyway. Expect for being an astronaut. So that one you can blame on them.
Even now, I find myself in need of their support and they're always there. I'm 24, living on my own, paying (most of) my own bills. They don't have to help me when I ask, but they do.
And if they didn't, I'd probably have run off to Mexico by now to dodge all of my debt.
Thanks Mom and Dad.