I love my parents.

This is my mom...

Isn't she pretty?

This is my Dad and my Mary... my stepmom. Aren't they cute?

Today I am thankful to have parents. My parents aren't perfect. I spent my early 20's lamenting this fact. I spent my mid 20's airing it all out to them, to my therapist and to anyone who would listen. I spent my late 20's accepting it. Now I'm 30. And in my 30's I love my parents. I'm thankful for all that they could and did give me in their own ways. I'm thankful for what they can give me now. The relationships I have with my parents aren't ideal. They aren't what I dreamed they would be. But they're enough. They have to be, because it hurts too much to live in regret and unrealistic expectations; it brings no joy wallowing there. And so I love them for who they are and the un-ideal places they have in my life. I called my mom in a complete emotional breakdown on Saturday and she was there for me with totally inspired advice. I could spend my time wishing this happened every day or I could be thankful that it happened on that day. I choose to be thankful. And right now I'm sipping tea from a kettle my dad sent me from Canada (which has Mary written all over it. My dad would be so lost without her.). It was a nice kettle, but the letter he sent meant more to me. I'm looking at it on the fridge. I wish he'd sent himself, but a kettle is nice too and it has sentimental meaning as drinking Postum at night is something we always enjoyed doing with my dad.

So the point of this post? I love my parents.