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April 1, 2007 - Bob
Las Vegas, NV
Annamaria and I have moved back to Las Vegas. In a way, this is “full circle”. It was very hard leaving the Bay Area, my friends, co-workers and my parents. Living with them for 18 months was such a gift. It was not our intention to stay with them that long, but life, for numerous reasons seemed to encourage us that way.
I had many feelings about living with them:
*The joy and friendship of dinners, movies or walks together.
*The sadness of seeing the ups and down in mom’s health particularly at such close range.
*The admiration of watching dad manage his PD in different ways.
*The strangeness of simply being that close to my parents as an adult, with a wife, no less. What did that say about me? There was guilt, as if I must be a failure to be living with them. There was also the reminder that what Annamaria and I were doing was helping from the ground level.
Ultimately, there was disappointment in simply not being able to afford a house in the Bay Area. We’re in a large group there, so I know I shouldn’t feel too bad. A house of the same size and with far more amenities is about half the price out in Las Vegas. Annamaria’s family lives out here and this is a place where Annamaria and I met and have had success in.
How will my parents be? They’ll be as they are supposed to, as well and conciously as they treat each other and themselves. I know Annamaria and I can only do so much. What my parents will do with their lives and how they will manage their illnesses is ultimately up to them. I don’t need to live with them to support them. I also know that part of the support I can offer is living a happy life with my beautiful new wife.
They’ve got a tremendous support system of friends, family and medical staff up there. And if anything really goes crazy, I’m only an hour flight away. I have to get on with my life and my family now. I’m a married man. Annamaria and I are (gulp) talking about kids of our own. That’s a little way off, but with a wife and a house, that “next question” is being asked with greater and greater frequency...
I think about taking my kids to their first ballgame. Tears well up just thinking about it. I’ll buy my child a snack. (FYI: I use “my child/kid” etc. because it doesn’t matter if we have a boy or a girl, they’re getting the game experience! Matter of fact, if my wife has her way, we’ll have twins.) I’ll make sure my child has the appropriate hat and jersey on (I really hope the kid’s first game is an A’s game...I’ll probably have the little one in A’s gear regardless of where it takes place). We’ll cheer, we’ll dance, we’ll sing “take me out to the ballgame”. I’ll teach my child very small things because I don’t want the experience to be a lecture...but understanding why the batter bunted or why an intentional walk was issued isn’t that hard to explain. And I’ll probably have to carry my child back out to the car because he or she will have fallen asleep by the time the game is over.
I hope my dad is with me at this game. And I hope they’ll have found a cure for Parkinson Disease by then so when my kids ask, “What were you guys talking about in the “Boys of Summer” movie?” I can tell them: hope and baseball.
April 1, 2007 - Bob
Las Vegas, NV
Annamaria and I have moved back to Las Vegas. In a way, this is “full circle”. It was very hard leaving the Bay Area, my friends, co-workers and my parents. Living with them for 18 months was such a gift. It was not our intention to stay with them that long, but life, for numerous reasons seemed to encourage us that way.
I had many feelings about living with them:
*The joy and friendship of dinners, movies or walks together.
*The sadness of seeing the ups and down in mom’s health particularly at such close range.
*The admiration of watching dad manage his PD in different ways.
*The strangeness of simply being that close to my parents as an adult, with a wife, no less. What did that say about me? There was guilt, as if I must be a failure to be living with them. There was also the reminder that what Annamaria and I were doing was helping from the ground level.
Ultimately, there was disappointment in simply not being able to afford a house in the Bay Area. We’re in a large group there, so I know I shouldn’t feel too bad. A house of the same size and with far more amenities is about half the price out in Las Vegas. Annamaria’s family lives out here and this is a place where Annamaria and I met and have had success in.
How will my parents be? They’ll be as they are supposed to, as well and conciously as they treat each other and themselves. I know Annamaria and I can only do so much. What my parents will do with their lives and how they will manage their illnesses is ultimately up to them. I don’t need to live with them to support them. I also know that part of the support I can offer is living a happy life with my beautiful new wife.
They’ve got a tremendous support system of friends, family and medical staff up there. And if anything really goes crazy, I’m only an hour flight away. I have to get on with my life and my family now. I’m a married man. Annamaria and I are (gulp) talking about kids of our own. That’s a little way off, but with a wife and a house, that “next question” is being asked with greater and greater frequency...
I think about taking my kids to their first ballgame. Tears well up just thinking about it. I’ll buy my child a snack. (FYI: I use “my child/kid” etc. because it doesn’t matter if we have a boy or a girl, they’re getting the game experience! Matter of fact, if my wife has her way, we’ll have twins.) I’ll make sure my child has the appropriate hat and jersey on (I really hope the kid’s first game is an A’s game...I’ll probably have the little one in A’s gear regardless of where it takes place). We’ll cheer, we’ll dance, we’ll sing “take me out to the ballgame”. I’ll teach my child very small things because I don’t want the experience to be a lecture...but understanding why the batter bunted or why an intentional walk was issued isn’t that hard to explain. And I’ll probably have to carry my child back out to the car because he or she will have fallen asleep by the time the game is over.
I hope my dad is with me at this game. And I hope they’ll have found a cure for Parkinson Disease by then so when my kids ask, “What were you guys talking about in the “Boys of Summer” movie?” I can tell them: hope and baseball.
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