Do you remember that feeling, when your mom is coming home from work and you’ve promised to clean the house and make dinner. And instead you’re having a full house of friends?
My parents are coming to NYC. They’re coming.
And this fact fills my heart with love and fear simultaneously.
Don’t get me wrong. I haven’t seen them almost a year now. And back in Kiev we used to gather for the supper almost every evening. I miss talking and hanging out with my mom. I miss lunch breaks with my dad. I miss all that.
But, they are coming… From their 200 yo house with enormous windows, antique furniture, 13 feet ceilings and that huge porcelain round table.
They already have tickets. There is no turning back…
And we, well, we have a 1 bedroom, that is definitely not facing the Central Park
(in fact, not any park at all).
I grew up in that house. And I never really treasured it. How amazing it is. Those huge old wooden windowsills. I used to sleep on one of those in summer when I was little. Real cast iron bathtub. And bathroom, that actually can be called bathroom!
What is it, that makes us want to seem better than we are for our parents?
It’s just, that I want them to know that I am happy. That I’m living my life tasting every moment. I don’t just live it, I enjoy it.
Is it all about that?