the professor's house.

While I was staying at home over winter break, my dad purchased an old record player. He went down to the basement and dusted off some old records. Some were marked "Joan Jett," (my mom's name), others were unmarked. Many contained deep scratches and signs of carelessness (all those were my mom's, my dad told me). During the cold afternoons, my family and I would stay inside and listen to Simon and Garfunkel sing about home and love and New York.

We ate dinner listening to The Sounds of Silence one night. My parents were talking about Tennessee, about college, about growing up and realizing how far you get from yourself when you throw your thoughts into school and work and your children.

My dad was complaining about one thing or another, about how much he didn't like school when he first gave it a try. Then when he returned from the Navy, how it all turned around and he enjoyed his classes and learning. He was going on about how much fun college was at that time. My mom chimed in, "Yeah, and you had a really hot girlfriend." I laughed and smiled.

"Kathy's Song" played over my laughter.

My mind's distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you when you start your day.

And a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme.

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you.

I thought, that's what love is. My parents have never been openly affectionate, not during my lifetime anyway. It has certainly affected my own standards for behavior in relationships. But I think that is what makes me enjoy the small things so much. A comment that takes you back thirty years to a time when you had it all, that makes you realize that you still have it all. A smile of recognition. Laughter that has lasted so long and a memory of unwavering faith in between the hard times. Listening to the music that brought you together. Passing that on.

I am so thankful that I have parents who have been so good to me and so good to each other. I know that I am lucky to have parents who support each other and who never gave up. I have considered the alternatives, have watched my friends go through unbearably painful experiences, and I am certain that nothing else could ever feel as good as my family does to me.

I only hope that I am able to pass on all of that love one day. I know I will though. Even if right now, as Paul Simon puts it, "I have come to doubt all that I once held as true." My parents will help me put my feet back on the ground. They will always remind me of what is truly important, even after I have learned that someone you love can cloud that deep connection with his own ridiculous pride. I can get past that, move on, and still find what they found.