family visits

I spent three days last week entertaining my parents on a vacation visit. They’re on the other coast; I get to see them in person once or twice a year. Since moving out here, we’ve had an off-again on-again tradition of alternating who flies which way for Christmas, but that stopped when my mother’s ancient smoking habit put her on portable oxygen tanks for the rest of her life. And even though she can fly with the equipment, it’s too much additional hassle to deal with during the Christmas travel rush, so I’ve always been the one flying. Also, they’re grandparents three times over now, and thus frequent babysitters — something else that didn’t used to be true.

It was an amazing visit all around. They enjoyed the company of my essentially-husband and sister-in-law. Every activity I planned was a hit (though the lakes tour cruise stretched on a tad long, and we arrived too early and had to sit around for nearly an hour before it even started). They approved of me finally owning a house instead of still renting, as I’ve done for more than a decade. The weather was good every day, and lacked the heat and humidity of their home state. (Like most of the country, it’s been hit hard all summer.)

Arguably best of all is the fact that I’ve taken the first serious personal vacation from work in four or five years — something more than an extra Friday or Monday to pad out a con weekend or a major holiday break that everyone got. Hopefully I can remember to make this a trend.