my parents were here all weekend to celebrate Father's Day and my birthday. we did all kinds of touristy things, like driving around the lakes, eating German food at a kitschy restaurant, eating sushi, going to the St. Paul cathedral. I was very glad to see them. that feeling wore off a bit, however, after I realized just how hard it is to have a meaningful conversation with my father. my mother and I generally communicate well, if we steer clear of certain topics (e.g., my father), and we're very close. at the same time I enjoyed showing them where I lived, it was a gut-wrenching weekend...but I realized how I'd changed when I discovered how little I cared about what they thought of me. once I stopped trying to make them (my father) proud, or get them (my father) to tell me I was a good person or doing the right things, I stopped being so irritated. and I could almost feel myself pull together, and stand upright, like one of those little puppets that stand taut when you release your thumb from the button underneath their feet.
