The only picture in 10 years capturing both parents in the same place, smiling

Absence
So my parents are gone, and I am left with a host of reasons to be sad.

First, of course, is the inevitable emptiness after people have filled your home and made it other than silent and solitary. I don't mean to imply that I don't like my serviced apartment at all -- it's very nice to have the quiet and peace and TV and air conditioning and daily linen service. But it's nicer to share it with someone, and even more with two someones who know you well and have to love you and make all sort of allowances for you and leave your fridge stocked to the gills (including a dish of peeled fruit) and a pot of stew on the stove to boot.

So there's that -- and the service is so good here that even though it's Saturday, and there's normally no service today, I came back at 5:30 pm to find that the extra bed had been taken away, and the table moved back to its usual position, and the bathroom tidied, and the linens restocked and the bed made over with what look like fresh sheets. It's so good, the service, that there was little sign that my parents had been here, save the stocked fridge and the lonely wire hanger on the table in the bedroom.

Then there's the fact that I really liked hanging out with my parents. My dad is reliably fun to be with (at least, in the past four years or so), and my mom seemed happier than I'd seen her in a really long time -- I think being with my dad made her so. They went around on their adventures (which my mom planned out in advance, using the internet) during the day, and came home with food and stories in the evenings, and we generally had a good time. I only had one moment of irritation with them, and that was yesterday, when they weren't where I thought they'd be when I came out of the office early-ish to meet them. (I got outsizably angry, I think, because I should really have gone to the weekly summer drinkfest, but cut out early to meet my parents; hanging around the lobby of my building for 15 minutes didn't make me feel very good about skipping out early.) But most of the time, I delighted in being with them. I wish they could have stayed longer.

Then there's all the attendant feelings and complications that come with the visitors being my parents and them having the relationship that they have. I mean, before the end of March, I hadn't seen them physically in the same location for years. And now they're hopping around on vacation together? And having a good time of it, from all signs and accounts? It's unnerving. I'm too old and cynical to believe that they'll get back together, but I admit that having them together here, and getting along, was a balm to my soul. I felt happy around them, happy that they were having a good time, happy that they were here together, in part taking care of me (I've been sort of sick since Wednesday) and in part gallivanting around.

I have lots of complicated feelings about my mother, as you might know. I was grateful to her for getting my dad to buy me lots of food and preparing it, and in general taking care of me; I got annoyed with her when she wanted to buy $60 worth of souvenirs and sort of expected me to pay for it. Which I didn't mind doing, but $60? It's a lot of money! And then I felt awful for making her feel bad, to the point where she said in a really piteous tone, "But I didn't buy anything for myself in Hong Kong!" Which is totally true, and I feel horrible just thinking of how I sort of forced her to say that to defend her purchases. It is also totally true that I rarely buy anything for myself on trips because I figure the trip is my souvenir. But that's a pretty hard standard to live up to, and I know that.

That's my mom, with whom I did have a fun time, despite the complex feelings I hold. My dad -- that's a simpler case. I just love the guy. He's fun! And funny! And unruffled! He asks cab drivers why all the cabs in Hong Kong are Toyotas! He contemplates maps and says slowly, "This map lies!"! He stays up watching bad TV! And so when my mom said the doctors took a biopsy of part of his stomach -- well, I still feel very close to tears even at the thought of him even possibly being sick.

Explanation: My mom was in Korea for a medical checkup before coming out here with my dad, and it turns out that my dad got checked out also, with some possibly alarming results. During a check of his stomach, the doctors took a sample, for what sounds like a biopsy. Of course, my dad pooh-poohed the idea that it was anything serious -- even cancer, he said breezily, if they catch it early enough, is managable. But my mom was scared by it, and I am uncomfortably unsettled by the news as well. In part it was my mom's delivery: "I think they knew what it was, but they didn't tell us." The tests come back in two weeks; I'll be in Seoul in three.

I know that being anxious won't do anything -- it'll just upset MY already rebellious stomach even more. But -- my parents will be 60 next fall. They were mistaken for "elderly" (65 and over) once on this trip, which they laughed about, tickled about getting a discount. But, you know, no one lives forever. Even when you want them to.

Argh. Now I'm full-on teary and depressed. I'm sure it's in part due to me only getting 6 hours of sleep last night -- I got up at 5 am to go to the airport with the folks. I've got lots more to tell you, but it'll have to wait til tomorrow, when I'm planning to recuperate for once and for all from this stomach bug by lounging around, writing, and running a few errands. Right now, I'm going to soothe my feverish brain into a zen-ish state by watching Matrix 2 on the telly.