So close and yet so far

I've been home since Sunday, after a four day visit with my folks after my dad's surgery, but several things prevented me from writing sooner.  First, I found out that my latptop's motherboard is fried and, thank goodness, my husband is not only saintly but also a handy computer whiz because he rigged up an old desktop for me so I would not die from Internet Deprivation.   Then I realized that not only did USair deny me a movie (that I could have actually watched as there was no toddler next to me requiring entertainment/snacks/potty visits every 5 minutes!), ran out of "meals for purchase" by the time they got to my row and CHARGE NOW FOR ALL DRINKS (wtf!?) but ALSO I left my brilliant half finished blog post, written on several smeared shreds of paper, somewhere in the seat back pocket.  Oh boy.  I sure hope whoever finds it just recycles it right away without reading it.  You'd think I wouldn't care since I was fully prepared to put it on the freaking WEB and all but the thought of someone finding it and reading it as they sit in my butt-cheek-indented seat makes me a little queasy.

Anyway.  They took it out, that blasted tumor, along with a whole lobe of my Dad's lung.  He's in pain but recovering and soon will leave the hospital.  My mom is doing really well;  she's a strong lady who happens to be dealing with a major house renovation in the middle of her husband's major health crises. (Hey, I know!  Let's cut a big hole in his chest WHILE they're cutting a huge hole in your house!  Doesn't that sound grand!?  Not disruptive or stressful IN THE LEAST.  It is spectacularly poor timing all around but it couldn't have been predicted or prevented.)  

It was good to be there.  There was nothing for me to "do" per se but being there counts for something, right?  It made me sad that we live so far away and a simple thing like visiting during a health crisis has to be such a big deal.  I made this bed, moving out to California 12 years ago, telling my folks it would be "just a couple of years".  I wanted to separate, to create my own life.  Most people do that by rebelling in their teens.  My parents and I had such an open, honest, close relationship, I had nothing to rebel against.  My parents invited my high school boyfriend on vacations with us.  My mom put condoms (in a cute little "condom wallet"!)  in my Christmas stocking in high school.  I was the only person I knew without a curfew. 

(Edit:  It has come to my attention that the previous paragraph could make it sound like I had a wild life as a teenager when in reality, I was SO straight arrow that my parents NEVER FELT THE NEED FOR A CURFEW.  And the condoms?  Expired before they were used, if I remember correctly.)

So now my 20's "rebellion" is kicking me in the ass.  I would love nothing more than to be able to pop over to my parents' house for dinner or BETTER YET, to be able to drop Zoe off for the afternoon so CG and I can catch a matinee or something, or most importantly, to be able to be there EASILY when it really matters.  I used to secretly wonder about friends who never left their hometowns or moved back quickly after college.  Now I realize they might have figured out something before me and I envy them.

Our move to Virginia will put me within 3 hours driving distance from my folks in New Jersey.  Not quite close enough for spontaneous lunch dates but closer.  Much, much closer.  And this is a very good thing.