Missing mom's 1,000 questions

Published 5:39 am Wednesday, June 1, 2005

By Staff
Getting older isn't as great as I thought it would be.
Getting older to me means my parents are getting older too, and I don't like that. We're not the world's closest family, but nonetheless we're family and that's what counts. Since I have moved away, I have found myself getting homesick and missing my parents more than I thought I would – thank goodness for technology.
I lived with them while I was in the transition of finishing college and my first job. I remember being annoyed so much with my parents sometimes. It never failed that the moment I stepped to the front door, ready to go out with a few friends, my mother would begin the thousand-question game, which would ultimately lead to my friends honking the horn.
Why, I wondered, couldn't she ask me these questions while I was getting ready? She knew I was going out.
And then there's my dad who would romp around the breakfast room in the morning, knowing that I don't talk until I finish my first cup of coffee.
However, I really miss hearing her ask me a thousand questions, and I miss my father trying to get into a serious conversation at 6 a.m. – especially now that I come home to an empty apartment. Well, not really empty. I do have my dog after all.
I have grown very close to my parents. We had a tragedy in our family three years ago that brought our entire family even closer. My niece died from Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS). She was three months old and her name was Isabella Rose.
My mom always says she just can't imagine what it would be like to lose one of her children. She says that it kills her to see one of her children suffering so badly. But to me, I just can't imagine losing my mom and daddy. They mean the world to me and know me the best out of all my closest friends and companions.
After all, my mom's the one who always tickles my arm and head if I can't get to sleep, while my dad always runs out in the middle of the night to get what he calls, "something sweet to eat."
One of my good friends from high school sent out an email a couple of weeks ago. She wrote to tell us that her mother had passed away from cancer. Her mom was one of the classiest ladies I had ever met. As I read her e-mail I sighed to myself and whispered a silent prayer to keep Casey strong. A tear trickled down my eye, and I couldn't help but wonder if it was a sad tear or a tear of relief that I still have my parents.
When you're growing up you can't wait to get out of the house, you take for granted how much your parents do for you. What you think of them as being annoying, is really them looking out for your best interest.
Now that I'm older I wish I could take back the way I acted when I was younger. One day I won't be able to show them how much they mean to me.
Mary-Allison Lancaster can be reached at mlancaster@brewtonstandard.com or 251.867.4876.

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