This past week we celebrated my mom and dad's 50th wedding anniversary.
For a week my entire family ate, laughed, lounged, swam and napped in a beautiful home
nestled up in the San Diego hills.
It was, in short, the best family vacation ever.
We had a fancy dinner to celebrate the longevity of my parents years together.
We surprised them with a family talent show complete with a Soul Train dance line.
Those grand-kids had some sweet moves.
There were beautiful songs and basketball tricks, piano numbers and lip syncs.
Scott rapped and I sang back up like in the good ole days.
(I know what you are thinking....yes, I am pretty gangsta.)
The pool was our haven. The water slide into the pool was fast and a little violent.
The kids would lecture the adults at the top,
"Lay down. Keep your elbows in. Raise your feet at the bottom."
We still got water up our noses but it was fun to see each other screaming and plummeting
into the water. Especially Dad. I loved his shout of laughter when he emerged.
This was high living.
We had cannon ball and diving contests...I received a score of 9 from my niece Chloe.
Thank you, Chloe.
The early risers congregated for coffee on the patio each morning on the comfy couch
overlooking the pool and mist covered valley.
I miss you, Traci, Dad and Brett.
Coffee overlooking my dying backyard lawn just isn't the same.
We swam up to the underwater bar and sipped mini cans of Coke and Fanta.
My brother, Chris and brother-in-law, Brett went surfing.
We made home made ice cream with peach sauce and toffee sprinkles.
The cousins watched movies and quoted Inspector Clouseau lines and pulled
out more electronic devices than I thought possible.
And we cried. At odd intervals. Because my mom was with us.
Alive. Healing. Laughing. Joyful.
She made big rounds for the kids. (i.e. crepes with melted butter, cinnamon and sugar.)
She swam and sat in the hot tub. She sang with us. She even requested a conga line at one point.
It seems she came back to us with a little boogie in her step.
We wept little tears of unbelievable joy that God has given us more days with her.
One friend of ours has dubbed her "Resurrection Ruth".
To us, she is the 8th wonder of the world.
In truth, she doesn't like being the center of attention. She would prefer to put the drama
of these past few months behind her and, well, live.
I wanted to continually hug her for the entire week...but it's difficult to get around
when your daughter is clinging to your neck...so I kept it to around 3 hugs a day.
At one point, while my brother-in-law, Van played hymns at the piano,
my sister, Jenny, broke down.
She said, "The last time we sang these songs we were sitting around Mom's hospital bed."
We are looking at life and this week with new eyes.
We have been given a gift. More days. More hours. More laughter. More joy.
With Mom and Dad.
Our plan is....to soak it up. Rejoice. Praise the One who made it so.
And incorporate conga lines into our family gatherings from here on out.