baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- With a little more practice, dad may let me drive his Accord A wave of common sense crashed over my head late last year and I finally started saying *I Love You* to my parents. Yes. I know. It shouldn't take 33 years to say *I Love You* to your parents-but some things are hard to explain-specifically when it comes to my relationship with mom and dad. For whatever reason, I'm reticent child when it comes to verbal displays of affection for the two who changed my diapers. But, late last year, I made an effort to be a little more demonstrative. My goodbyes were punctuated with a quick hug and a barely audible *I Love You.* The hugs felt good, and the *I Love You* part felt nice too. So I kept it up-thinking that with a little more practice-maybe I can say it in a volume slightly louder than a whisper. My mom, the more emotional one of the two, would nod and smile and say *OK.* She would pat me on the back in a way that let me in on her appreciation. My dad, sticking to his usual routine, was silent. At first, I think the kiss on his cheek startled him-but he seemed to grow accustomed to my advances over time. Asian fathers you know. Stoic. Emotionless. Practical. My father fits the mold perfectly. So, yesterday I spent the evening in Mom's kitchen eating a meal that only Mom could make and discussing all the usual parental/child things: Why are you coughing? How much is your house worth? Are you taking your vitamins? Are you married yet? I tell ya, sometimes it seems that I have the same exact conversation with them everytime I'm over there. It used to irk me-this ceaseless probing into the same corners of my world-but now I see it as a comedy routine-one that we're practicing and perfecting over time. Girl-unit loves it. She smiles that secret smile at me when she hears my dad launch into his usual interrogation. Before I left, I gave Mom her hug and said *I Love You* in a volume that was almost conversation level (practice helps). She smiled and gave me her usual *OK* and back pat. Dad was in the detached garage admiring his new Honda Accord (boys age, but the toys remain the same) and I walked over, complemented the car, kissed him on the cheek and said *I Love You.* He smiled, as is customary, and said *OK,* stealing Mom's line. As I turned the corner, out of view, I heard him say, *Hey, R, me too.* Ahh. I thought. The routine is getting better all the time. It's amazing what a little practice can do. 10:20 a.m. - 2001-05-13 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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