MOM AND DAD

Mom And Dad

Mom And Dad

Introduction

Mom and Dad, the people who watched over me and took care of me every step throughout my childhood. They amuse me simply because they remind me of two people I know very well, my husband and myself. Each of them had their own way of showing how they care, but both caring for me just the same. They spent most of their lives devoted to my presence, but if there were ever two people more different, it would be my Mom and Dad.

Mom, sweet and caring, was always the person I would turn to in my time of need. When I bruised my knee; she was there to kiss it and all of my tears would disappear. When I had my first broken heart; she was there letting me know that my world was not coming to an end.

Dad, stern and hardworking, was always the person I would turn to when I needed help. When I couldn't get that math problem to come out just right; he was there, helping me see what I couldn't before. When I couldn't determine which direction to turn; he was there, showing me right from wrong.

Neither Mom nor Dad have the same view of which way was the best way of raising me. Mom had a view of being patient and letting me learn on my own. Dad, on the other hand, thought it best to teach me first, so I wouldn't go wrong. Any person could see even without words, how opposed each of them were to the others way. For instance, when I was taught to ride a bike, Dad would get on my bike and try to show me how, Mom just took the training wheels off, gave me a push saying, "It just comes natural." Even though they didn't agree, I never saw them argue and once a decision was made; they both stuck by it, no questions asked.

Every once in a great while, Dad would try to cook dinner without any assistance. Being from the city didn't give him much experience on how to cook a country meal. Whenever he decided to encounter the challenge of dinnertime, I always steered clear of the fire. The best food Dad ever made was on the grill. When he neared a stove, you would swear that it had a vendetta against him. The last time I seen him cook was the time he caught bacon on fire. I don't think he has touched the stove since, but I can see that Mom doesn't mind. Every time she politely ate one of Dad's , you could catch that flicker in her eye of how she longed for that home cooked country meal we normally had each evening.

Every so often, I look at Mom and see how she misses the country. When I began school, Dad thought it would be best to move to town. I think he felt better knowing that he would still be close ...