My mom had just moved to Boston from Los Angeles after a terrible break-up and her parents thought it would be a good idea to have some better scenery. She enrolled in a business college to study how to be a travel agent. She stayed with her aunt.
My dad moved to Boston to get "his English better". He had graduated from high school and decided to travel and work instead of going to college. He worked different odd jobs, travelling all over Peru and Spain. After a while, he had his heart set on America. The land of opportunity. It was supposed to be only for a few years until his English program was over.
Well, fate and destiny had another plan entirely. My dad met my mom's uncle and he was invited to my mom's birthday party. He went for the free food and drink, he told me, but ended up in love. My parents talked all night long and the courtship began.
Six months later, after many ice cream dates and my mom helping my dad decorate his apartment, the talk happened. My mom says they were on the trolley heading into the city when she dropped the bomb on him. She was pregnant With me!
My parents married in September 1973 in a little courthouse in Boston and then headed to Los Angeles to announce the news to my grandparents. They were married by the church a few months later and settled in tiny apartment in the Silver Lake area.
The family grew by one in April 1974. My dad worked all hours while my mom was with me. Tehy were a team. They were happy and starting the memories they always dreamed of. Together.
That was the beginning of their now 40-some years of marriage. My brother arrived about seven years later. A blessing to our little family since my parents tried and tried for a baby for so long. Our family was complete. My mom says she always wanted at least six children, but God had other plans.
We moved around a lot as a little family - Peru, Costa Rica, Boston, El Salvador, and back to California. Their life has been good. Yes, there were times of hardship, but so many times of love and family and togetherness.
My mom is a warrior. She was a off again-on again stay at home mom who has always loved her children fiercely. I know that we saved her life. I am a lot like her. We talk too much, care deeply for others, put ourselves last to put others first, and have a wicked sense of humor. When my mom laughs, you can't help but laugh with her. She makes a room glow with love. When she's upset, you want to make it all better because that's what she'll do for you. She raised two children that she is extremely proud of. She is our best friend, our cheerleader, our lead singer, and never questioning supporter.
My Papa. My father was the bread winner, the provider. He was the disciplinarian while my mama was the nurturer. He set the tone of what their marriage was. He loves his wife so very much and is her #1 protector. He was the example of the strong man I would end up with. He loves with all his heart, will avoid conflict at any cost, and protect his children 'til the end of time. He is the one who can't tell a joke to save his life because he laughs before the punchline. He empowers me to be better - a better mother, wife, and writer. He will be the one I dedicate my first book to. He loves me and I am so lucky to have him as my Papa. We can talk for hours and never get bored. We laugh. He is my first love.
These people are my parents. They are my everything. They no longer live in California - their love of travel and adventure never ceased. They now live in Peru, together, just like they began. Learning about each other. Falling in love like the first time.
Going on ice cream dates...but I think my dad has taken over the decorating.