Back in the summer of 1974 a young exchange student from Iran went back for the summer from Cal Poly Pomona in Southern California. When he went back home for the summer before his senior year, he told his mom that he wanted to meet a girl and marry her before he went back to Cal Poly for his senior year. His mom didn’t hesitate to start inviting all her friends with daughters to meet her son.
Two weeks before my father returned to America, he met my mom. This week, they are in Hawaii celebrating their 40th anniversary. With one grandkid and another two on the way (by the way, my wife Leslie is pregnant again and this is the first time I’m sharing it on the internet), they are as happy as ever.
If there are two people that understand the notion of sacrifice and love, it’s my parents. As hard and challenging it is to be disabled, in a way it’s harder to be the parent of a disabled child. Yet, they did everything in their power to make my sister and me feel that life was great. During the hard times, my family was always laughing and having a good old time. They are emotional rocks and they taught me how to play the cards that I was dealt. My mom hates when people say it’s not fair. My father taught me that whatever needed to be done got done, no complaining.
Over the last year, I witnessed them in their new role as grandparents. They love Andrew and often kidnap him! Whenever I see them with my boy, I get this calm feeling that they are getting justice for what happened to me. It is very surreal. This week they are in Maui celebrating their 40th anniversary and if I know them, they can’t wait to get back to kiss their grandkid.