Yes, Death Puts Things In Perspective

I was kind of annoyed at my folks yesterday/Friday.  When I went to work I told them I would call them as to when I'll be home.  I thought it would be closer to eight hours because Fridays are usually OK at The Fourth Department, where I had been all week (and will be next week until next Friday).  I was wrong; I never have had as many forms to deal with on a Friday as I did yesterday.  Combine that with a couple mistakes for which I needed to retrace my steps and do over, and I got out around 6:15, which is totally not what I expected.

Around 4 I called them.  I was going to tell them not to wait up; eat dinner, and leave something for me.  But Father said, "Call me when you're done with work."  "But I don't know when that will be," I said.  "Just call me when you're done with work," Father replied, and that was annoying because I hate for them to just stick around and wait for me to come home to eat even though they eat dinner around, like, 4:30, like a bunch of seniors.  But I called when I was done with work and, as I was trundling up the stairs, Father was laying on the couch, waiting for me.  Scared the hell out of me; he's like a lazy ninja.  But he cooked me up fish and spaghetti with modified seafood pasta sauce at a bit past 7, a time where I think he would be slumped in his bed, watching TV.

Times like this make me wish I didn't burden them with waiting around for me to come home from work.  I had said that if work is pushing me past their dinner time, I'll just go out to eat.  They seem to insist they don't mind waiting around.  And ... well, I think I will go out to eat next Friday and lie by telling them I'm seeing a friend (yeah, in my last blog post I came down hard on myself for eating out so much, but I really want to eat something I want to eat), but I think it's a nice gesture.  And upon the death of Grandmother's best friend, I don't mind it.

I understand that death is inevitable.  But hearing of her passing just reminds me of it, and it's been hard not to think of it this week.  I am going to lose my loved ones, and since they're getting old, it may be soon.  When thinking about that, all the arguments I've had with my parents, all the differences I still have with them, all the weird food they make me eat, they really do all seem to fall away because the only thing that matters is that we love each other, and we help each other whenever and however we can.  Because one day ... they'll be gone.  And I still don't know what the hell I will do when that time comes.

So yeah, I might skip out on dinner on Friday.  (Actually, come to think of it, I have Games to go to Tuesday and Wednesday, and I don't know if I'll have time to come back home before going out again.  Maybe I shouldn't.)  But I finally am starting to accept the idea (now that I'm in my forties) that they do things I find annoying not out of obligation, but out of true and genuine love.  Maybe I should be more open to that.