![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Seattle Day 3 - Homecoming
Mar. 22nd, 2012 04:03 pmIn order to get me to Bainbridge to meet my parents by 10, we had to get up by 7 to take the Vashon Island ferry to Seattle, drive over to the other port, and get on the 9am ferry to Bainbridge. Deeply appreciative of Chip going so far, I bid him goodbye, left to travel on my own for the first time since arriving. I figured I'd end up somewhere in Cambodia, and told Tim as much when he texted me, but somehow managed to get on the right ferry.
My mom was waiting for me on the other side, gave me a long hug, then we went out to meet my Papa at the car. He's gotten bigger, which is no surprise. He also hugged me, then they took me to a vegan restaurant which didn't open for another hour and a half. I was touched they'd gone so far in researching for me - it's really all I want. Once I know they're thinking of me, I'm perfectly fine making concessions and eating anywhere. We went to a charming diner down the street, where they had a tofu scramble on the menu. We talked about my trip, and about kids, and about helping people. Still plenty of time before my flight, they took me to their house to meet the dogs.
Maggie, a full (and full-bodied) Akida, barked as soon as I walked in. "I am a Big RuffTuff Dog, and you are a stranger, and I am barking at you! Hear me bark and be afraid!" Warning served, she walked up to me and waited to be petted. Molly, their other dog, just wanted me to throw her ball. My parent's house is rather cluttered, and I worry about it falling into disrepair. My brother called while I was there, but mom talked to him as though she was alone. She had to work, and I had to start my trek to the airport, so the dogs piled into the car with us and we went to the ferry station.
I barely made it onto the Ferry, though I would have been fine even if I had to catch the next one. My Papa wanted me to take a cab, Chip had told me to take the light rail. It took FOREVER to find the rail station, as it was a half mile walk even without the conflicting directions people kept giving me. Finally found it, and I'm glad I opted for that. It was $.75 (yay Disabled ID card!), and much faster than a cab would have been. The flight home took about a half hour longer than estimated, but Big Eric made no issue of it, and dropped me off at home. The spare key was missing - roommate had found it on the porch, apparently, and moved it to the coffee table. Landlord let me in, so everything was fine.
After spending most of my day traveling by car, ferry, foot, train, and plane, was a scoch bit tired, but I figured Tim would be texting me to come by after school. Around 10:30, he called. His mom, who he hadn't talked to in 13 years, had called him out of the blue just before his last class, and he was still a little dazed. I guess she's been trying to track him down for years, often just one address behind him.
He went for dinner, then came over to talk more. His mum had been a mail order bride, then divorced his dad when he was 8, running off with the man she was having an affair with. She now has non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, went in for one round of chemo, and decided not to go for more. One of the first things his mom said to him was "don't tell your father I called." As long as it's been since he's talked to her, it's been far longer since she's had any contact with his dad. Tim has surmised that people's holding on to negative emotions can contribute to cancer, which I find just vaguely insulting to people with cancer.
We talked about the nature of grace and forgiveness, two concepts which are completely foreign to me. Maybe this will change for me eventually, but my current view is: we can move on from the incident(s), they don't need to taint our general interactions, but they never, ever go away. I can certainly understand mistakes - you thought something was the right thing to do, but the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Happens all the time, no worries.
I can't understand fucking someone over then coming for forgiveness because you're sick, or you've been caught, or even that you're tired of feeling guilty. It reeks of the same self-centered universe that made you fuck them over in the first place.
Around 2am he put his shoes on, but still stayed chatting. I said I was going to bed, and that I assumed, since he put his shoes on, that he wasn't spending the night. He had considered it, but needed to do work on Paul's boat tomorrow, and didn't think it would be healthy for me. That's accurate.
My mom was waiting for me on the other side, gave me a long hug, then we went out to meet my Papa at the car. He's gotten bigger, which is no surprise. He also hugged me, then they took me to a vegan restaurant which didn't open for another hour and a half. I was touched they'd gone so far in researching for me - it's really all I want. Once I know they're thinking of me, I'm perfectly fine making concessions and eating anywhere. We went to a charming diner down the street, where they had a tofu scramble on the menu. We talked about my trip, and about kids, and about helping people. Still plenty of time before my flight, they took me to their house to meet the dogs.
Maggie, a full (and full-bodied) Akida, barked as soon as I walked in. "I am a Big RuffTuff Dog, and you are a stranger, and I am barking at you! Hear me bark and be afraid!" Warning served, she walked up to me and waited to be petted. Molly, their other dog, just wanted me to throw her ball. My parent's house is rather cluttered, and I worry about it falling into disrepair. My brother called while I was there, but mom talked to him as though she was alone. She had to work, and I had to start my trek to the airport, so the dogs piled into the car with us and we went to the ferry station.
I barely made it onto the Ferry, though I would have been fine even if I had to catch the next one. My Papa wanted me to take a cab, Chip had told me to take the light rail. It took FOREVER to find the rail station, as it was a half mile walk even without the conflicting directions people kept giving me. Finally found it, and I'm glad I opted for that. It was $.75 (yay Disabled ID card!), and much faster than a cab would have been. The flight home took about a half hour longer than estimated, but Big Eric made no issue of it, and dropped me off at home. The spare key was missing - roommate had found it on the porch, apparently, and moved it to the coffee table. Landlord let me in, so everything was fine.
After spending most of my day traveling by car, ferry, foot, train, and plane, was a scoch bit tired, but I figured Tim would be texting me to come by after school. Around 10:30, he called. His mom, who he hadn't talked to in 13 years, had called him out of the blue just before his last class, and he was still a little dazed. I guess she's been trying to track him down for years, often just one address behind him.
He went for dinner, then came over to talk more. His mum had been a mail order bride, then divorced his dad when he was 8, running off with the man she was having an affair with. She now has non-Hodgkins Lymphoma, went in for one round of chemo, and decided not to go for more. One of the first things his mom said to him was "don't tell your father I called." As long as it's been since he's talked to her, it's been far longer since she's had any contact with his dad. Tim has surmised that people's holding on to negative emotions can contribute to cancer, which I find just vaguely insulting to people with cancer.
We talked about the nature of grace and forgiveness, two concepts which are completely foreign to me. Maybe this will change for me eventually, but my current view is: we can move on from the incident(s), they don't need to taint our general interactions, but they never, ever go away. I can certainly understand mistakes - you thought something was the right thing to do, but the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Happens all the time, no worries.
I can't understand fucking someone over then coming for forgiveness because you're sick, or you've been caught, or even that you're tired of feeling guilty. It reeks of the same self-centered universe that made you fuck them over in the first place.
Around 2am he put his shoes on, but still stayed chatting. I said I was going to bed, and that I assumed, since he put his shoes on, that he wasn't spending the night. He had considered it, but needed to do work on Paul's boat tomorrow, and didn't think it would be healthy for me. That's accurate.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}