My parents left this cloudy, colored-leaf morning. I drove them to the airport at 8:00 a.m. and went through all the gamut of emotions you go through when you only see your parents every few years.
How you want them to stay in your home longer, yet you know that would lead to a disaster down the road.
How you love them, but at times they make you crazy with the things they tell you.
How you feel guilty when you feel anything negative toward them.
How you picture them as they looked when you were a teenager--yet when you actually see their faces now, you're always surprised and saddened at how old they look.
How you wish they could always stay young.
How you wish 'Family' was not such a complicated thing. How you wish you were the perfect daughter, but, always, you just are what you are.
How you wish your emotions would always behave themselves when you spend time with family.
And on and on.
Zombie thoughts. That's what I had on my way out of the airport, alone, wondering if the guy in the parking ticket booth noticed the tears in my eyes.
Zombie thoughts because I'm just so darn tired after 17 days of sightseeing with my parents--and yet wishing they were still here. But not still here. Still here, but not still here. Still here. But not still here.
Those zombie thoughts which are whining to me right now, "For heaven's sake! Lie down and take a good, long nap. You deserve it."
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