It occurred to me today that I've seen my parents more times in the past month than I have in, well, years. The visits have been short, but still...
The first was when I headed to SmallTown for a visit (at which time, you may remember, I was stood up by the boy next door, not that I'm still holding a grudge or anything). That was about a month ago.
Then, two weeks ago, I orchestrated a semi-surprise anniversary dinner for them (Uncle Anchises describes the cousins dinner quite well, and if you're not following his blog, well...). The surprise was that while they knew I'd be there, they had no idea that Thing One or my sister, her husband and two children would also be there. What I didn't expect was that my mother's boy-next-door (who never stood her up, by the way. not that I'm keeping track) would die and I'd have to hide Thing One somewhere so as not to ruin the surprise. Despite that little set-back, the evening went smoothly and the looks on their faces were so wonderful to see. Call that my annual mitzvah.
This past week, my cousin D and his family were in town (from LA, which is where the boy-next-door lives, too - and let's guess which one I'm more likely to see when I'm in Anaheim for ALA next summer, shall we?) to visit Uncle A, and I was invited to dinner. Just two days before, I learned that my parents would be at dinner as well. So, three times in three weeks.
And then there was Sunday, when we reopened our library. I'd thought all donors were being invited, so I mentioned it to them. Turns out I was slightly wrong, but they had a great time seeing my new workspace and meeting some of my colleagues. They even came to breakfast on Monday!
Four times in a little over four weeks. Wow. I don't know when I'll see them again, which is ok. Wouldn't want to have too much of a good thing.*
* unlike That Boy, who clearly doesn't know what he's missing...