Yesterday Yogi and I spent the bulk of the day without power and huddled together in our basement, so I’m behind. Happily the sun is shining today and we don’t have any storm damage. Whew.
My parents met in March of 1975 and married eight months later. By the time I was born my Dad had decided to make the move from teaching Algebra at a local junior college to managing what was then called Personnel for a large furniture manufacturer. When he retired a few years ago he was doing the same work and calling it Human Resources. My Mom spent her entire career as a secretary for the same organization, which moved our family in 1982 to the suburbs of a major city. I grew up in suburbia.
My parents wanted a handful of kids but had only me. My Mom has a clotting disorder that requires her to take a medication that is unsafe for pregnant women and given her history of throwing clots right to her lungs even while medicated, the doctor urged my parents to consider adoption. They decided to take a gamble and get pregnant and she was able to make it through the entire pregnancy in good health, lucky for me. My parents and I were very much a threesome growing up and that has made our transition into my adulthood challenging. It has always been just us and although I certainly knew that I was loved, it has been hard for them to see me as separate from them. This is one of the reasons that I am eager for Yogi to have a sibling(s?). I would like for him to grow up in a world that is a little less adult than the one I grew up in.
My parents are both a bit shy, but while my Mom can chatter on endlessly once she’s warmed up, my Dad is fairly quiet and has to really have something to say before he joins a conversation. These days they are both retired. My Mom keeps busy with her small group of friends and Dad is working on his photography skills. They are head over heels for Yogi.