After nearly 13 years of being unmarried, my father proposed to his girlfriend of 5 1/2 years. Coincidentally, he did it a few days before they were scheduled to fly out and visit me in Boston, so I was able to - quite genuinely - give them my congratulations when they arrived at Logan on Friday morning. I am happy for them; though in an ideal world, my father would still be married to my mother, I can say with certainty (especially after this weekend) that my dad and his fiancee are not only suited to each other, but truly in love. Logistically, marriage makes sense; they are both selling their houses to buy one together (a process which started about a year and a half ago) so they might as well be married while living together as not. And since I live in Boston and they live in Cleveland, the arrangement has no real bearing on my life anyway.
In any case, we were able to spend a very fine celebratory long weekend together. After arriving they got to see my apartment for the first time, and my father declared it to be just like my sister's. Having never seen my sister's apartment, I decided to take this as a good thing. That night we went to dinner at Legal Sea Food with my mother's sister and her family. After dinner we (just the three of us) stopped at the Sunset for a drink, where my dad and his fiancee thoroughly enjoyed both the beer and the spinach dip.
On Saturday we had lunch at the Paris Creperie in Coolidge Corner, then drove to Harvard Square, where we experienced a small parking catastrophe: while perusing the streets for a parking space, we saw a garage; the gate was open so we drove in, then, seeing the rates, decided to try elsewhere, but when we tried to leave, the attendant wouldn't let us out without paying $28, the fee for a lost ticket. She didn't believe that the gate had been open, and thought we were trying to get out for free. After much deliberation, we decided to park there, since we would have to pay almost 30 bucks anyway. And that's why you don't drive in Harvard Square.
On Saturday night my dad and his fiancee came to The Comedy Studio for what was a truly spectacular show, possibly made all the more awesome because I got to run the booth. After the show I introduced them to Rick Jenkins, the owner.
"She's great," he said to my father of me, "she basically runs the show!" [Note: not true].
"Well then maybe you should think about paying her," my dad said, in a tone which I recognized as joking, but knew could sound quite serious to those who don't know him. I was mortified; luckily, Rick didn't mention anything later.
On Sunday we had breakfast at Dunkin' Donuts, because I thought it would be blasphemy to visit Boston without eating at one. Then we took the T to Government Center and walked around the North End, where my dad took a lot of pictures and generally looked as much like a tourist as possible. We got lunch at Quincy Market, which was, of course, packed beyond occupancy with people, then walked through Downtown Crossing to Boston Common. After taking a post-thunderstorm stroll through the Common we were all tired, and went home to rest before having dinner with my roommate's parents that evening. This morning (Monday) we went to Target, after which they left for the airport.
"You seem really happy," my dad said as he hugged me goodbye in my third-floor apartment, the standing fan in the corner a flimsy attempt to combat the late-May heat. "I think this is the happiest I've seen you in a long time."
I think he's right. It's been a year since I've graduated from college (!), and I think life is going pretty well, all things considered. Sure, I don't have everything I want, and this isn't really where I envisioned myself when I thought of the future a few years ago. But to invoke the words of a dozen Hallmark cards, "happiness is a journey, not a destination." Why shouldn't I enjoy this pit stop?
Obama is cool, but my dad posing with this life-sized cut out of him
at Newbury Comics is even cooler!
at Newbury Comics is even cooler!
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