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| View from where I'd like to be working |
The rain hitting the roof and walls creates a calming melody, making everything feel snug and safe—like a gentle hug from nature. Despite the coziness, I'm looking forward to the rain letting up this afternoon. I can't wait to sit outside with my parents again, maybe catch a view of that idyllic eagle in the tree pictured to the right.
Even though I'm inside, the atmosphere is neat. Not being outside hasn't stopped me from enjoying my time here. Last night, drinks were had right where I am now, with my brother Bobby and my parents. Mom and Dad (yes, the same folks who helped mem manage my asthma when I was a child) reminisced about the past.
Mom shared tales of meeting Dad, while also recounting the journey of her dad from Poland. Dad, in turn, reminisced about his youth. At 18, his father gave him $25 and a $100 check, urging him to travel from their Onekama home to Detroit. He spent six months working on extending highway 75 south, residing in a worker's house. One weekend, yearning for home, he found himself cash-strapped as banks wouldn't honor the check. Undeterred, he hitchhiked back and, upon nearing home, called his parents, who arranged for a ride.
Upon his return, Grandma had prepared strawberry shortcake. Dad, claiming three days without a proper meal, relished the homemade delight. The taste of that strawberry shortcake became a memory etched in time, a testament to simple pleasures and the warmth of family.
The taste of that strawberry shortcake serves as a sweet reminder of cherished family moments. It's moments like these that make me appreciate family stories even more. As I love hearing tales of the past, it was only fitting to transition into discussions about my own asthma history. The stories my parents shared shaped their experiences, just as my journey with asthma has shaped mine.
In the backdrop of these shared memories, I found the right time to delve into my own asthma past. It's a part of my life that influenced not only me but also my parents. There were moments when the shadow of fear loomed, times when asthma had them worried about my well-being. We reflect on those times now, all these years later, and marvel at the fact that we can reminisce about it with joy and gratitude. It's a testament to resilience, love, and the enduring strength that binds our family narrative together.
Even though I'm inside, the atmosphere is neat. Not being outside hasn't stopped me from enjoying my time here. Last night, drinks were had right where I am now, with my brother Bobby and my parents. Mom and Dad (yes, the same folks who helped mem manage my asthma when I was a child) reminisced about the past.
Mom shared tales of meeting Dad, while also recounting the journey of her dad from Poland. Dad, in turn, reminisced about his youth. At 18, his father gave him $25 and a $100 check, urging him to travel from their Onekama home to Detroit. He spent six months working on extending highway 75 south, residing in a worker's house. One weekend, yearning for home, he found himself cash-strapped as banks wouldn't honor the check. Undeterred, he hitchhiked back and, upon nearing home, called his parents, who arranged for a ride.
Upon his return, Grandma had prepared strawberry shortcake. Dad, claiming three days without a proper meal, relished the homemade delight. The taste of that strawberry shortcake became a memory etched in time, a testament to simple pleasures and the warmth of family.
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| My work station this morning! |
The taste of that strawberry shortcake serves as a sweet reminder of cherished family moments. It's moments like these that make me appreciate family stories even more. As I love hearing tales of the past, it was only fitting to transition into discussions about my own asthma history. The stories my parents shared shaped their experiences, just as my journey with asthma has shaped mine.
In the backdrop of these shared memories, I found the right time to delve into my own asthma past. It's a part of my life that influenced not only me but also my parents. There were moments when the shadow of fear loomed, times when asthma had them worried about my well-being. We reflect on those times now, all these years later, and marvel at the fact that we can reminisce about it with joy and gratitude. It's a testament to resilience, love, and the enduring strength that binds our family narrative together.
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