A few weeks ago, we went to California to visit. My dad has consistently purchased us
Disneyland tickets everytime we visit since we moved out of California. Through his work, he gets a small discount,
and in the beginning, there were only three of us. And then there were four. And then there were five. And now there are six.
This was the first time we decided to go to Disneyland for
two days. It just felt like it’d be less
rushed and we could take our time since we now have two kids who can ride a lot
more and three kids interested in everything going on. My parents always like getting a hotel nearby
so they can be home when we return, they also think we’ll stop by for a nap or
a rest, but so far, we’ve only come home when it’s time to leave the park. So naturally, we all got a hotel with
adjoining rooms so we could stay a bit closer to Disneyland before the fun
began. That first evening, after the
kids had gone to bed, I went with my dad to buy the kids’ tickets from the
hotel (because his work didn’t offer discounted kids tickes anymore). As we were walking back to the room, I looked
at the two Storm Troopers, tickets I had asked them to give me the same of
since I knew the kids might fight over them if there were two different
ones. Then, I wondered what the other
tickets looked like. All of a sudden, I
was overcome with this weird cloud of oh
crap. I asked my dad, almost
hesitated to do it, because I kind of knew the answer… “where are our tickets
Dad?” He told me he had already given
them to me. “Oh no…” So this is the weird thing about my brain
now that I’ve become a mom. It’s true,
mommy brain, or whatever the crap they call it, my brain doesn’t work quite
like it used to. Most of the time, I am
just distracted or I can’t process it all at the effectiveness I used to. So here’s what I remember. I saw the tickets. It’s as if I had a dream and I saw them. But while my Dad was showing them to me and
telling me about them, the next part is a haze.
Like a dream, it just sort of fades away. I had to go take care of a screaming child or
I was needed somewhere, I’m not quite sure, nor do I remember it, I just
remember I saw the tickets and then I was supposed to put them away, but I
never did.
I was overcome with weird emotions, I felt so so dumb. So ungrateful. My dad was so generous, getting us all these
tickets, and here I had gone, losing them.
We were 45 miles and minutes (or more with traffic) away from our home,
where the tickets most likely still were.
That, or my kids had taken them and thrown them away by accident. I knew without a doubt that I did not have
the tickets, because I’m a controlling person that would have put them
somewhere safe, and yet all I remember is the haze that was seeing a glimpse of
the tickets and then being distracted. I
checked my bags, Andy’s bags, all my secret hiding places for top secret stuff
(my maternal grandmother used to do the same, I fear we share that in common),
and nothing. No tickets anywhere. Ugh.
Do you know what it’s like to have a problem you feel like you can’t
solve? Helpless. Frustrated.
Stupid. Paralyzed with my
inability to just solve the problem, I felt so awful. Here my parents had not only paid for all of
our tickets, they were paying for my brother to come one day and my cousin the
other so we could have more help with the kids and ride more stuff, they had
also gotten us a hotel, and they were basically just hanging out at the hotel
at night when we were there, during they day, they’d go back to work and then
come back to meet us at night. I felt
absolutely horrible. Awful. Like I had failed as a mother, daughter, and
what I normally deem an “organized” person.
My dad said it wasn’t a big deal, that he’d drive home to
check, and worst case, he’d get new tickets.
My mom chimmed in with the same, telling me it wasn’t something money
couldn’t solve, and that luckily, we were in a place where money was not a
problem anymore.
Do you know how crummy I felt? How absolutely absurd that they could even
say that made me feel like an entitled brat.
Because Andy and I do deal with money issues, we do budget like crazy,
and I know we are not in the same position our own parents were when we were
younger, but we can empathize despite having super supportive and generous
parents who help us out all the time and a stead income. I
felt like I didn’t deserve such parents.
They didn’t even scold me, tell me I was being irresponsible, remind me
how scattered brain I was. I felt like
they should have. Like I deserved a good
reprimanding for my irresponsible actions that now meant they’d have to drive
an hour home and an hour back, and might not even find the tickets. I wish I could transport myself home, my
brain back to the moment my dad gave me the tickets. I felt so utterly useless.
My parents reassured me it wasn’t a big deal. I felt so many emotions that night, waiting
for them to drive to and fro. I had
offered to go with my dad, but they both insisted I get some rest. I felt so lucky to have such supportive
parents, who in the midst of a huge mess up, didn’t remind me how I could be
better, but were just 100% supportive.
They told me everyone messes up, and that there were worse things. They told me not to stress and to just relax
as they went about solving my problems.
It felt weird to be 35 years old and have my parents take care of me like I had
just fallen, and they had the magical band-aid to fix everything. It felt weird, but also good. It felt good to have my Daddy solve my
problem. It felt good to have my Mommy
tell me everything was going to be okay.
It felt good to just let someone else take care of me. It felt good to be a little girl again.
And more importantly, it made me recognize the immense love I
have for my parents, an emotion I'm not always willing to admit because I live so far and don't see them as often as I'd like. It made me recognize the
familiarity and comfortableness with my parents who have always done whatever
they can to give me opportunities and safety – financially, physically,
emotionally, and spiritually. I wanted
to yell, “I love you guys!” but the Chinese part of me just said a timid, “Thank
you.” I love my Dad and Mom so much and
I miss them all the time. I call my mom all the time, I love hearing her voice, even when she nags me about this or that. I try to call my dad a lot too, but men are different with their love of conversing on the phone. My dad always wonders if I have news when I call. Instead, I just send them both photos of what we're doing all the time. I share all my Instagram photos on Facebook to a family group, but mostly I am sharing the photos with them because I know they use Facebook all the time. I hope they
know how much they mean to me, and how much they have taught me and inspired me
to be a good person. I love them both so much and I cannot think of a better story to show how awesome my dad and mom are. But since it's Father's Day, this one's just for Dad. Happy Father's Day Ba-Ba. I love you.
They didn’t find the tickets that night. And they ended up buying another set. My mom told my dad they should say they found
them and that the newly purchased ones were it.
My dad told my mom that wasn’t a good idea, and they told us the truth. My parents are so cute. My dad is super honest and kind, my mom is super thoughtful and protective. But me? I was determined to fix this huge dumb problem my
own absent mindedness had created, so I spent a few hours at the park talking to
guest services, and eventually called the office my dad had bought the tickets
from, obtained an emailed copy of the receipt, and begged the Disneyland Guest
Services to place reissue me new tickets.
They must have felt sorry for me, because I know they bended the rules a
bit to give me six more tickets to replace the ones I was sure had been lost
because of me. At one point, I may have even cried about the whole situation (just a bit) because I am not a crying person, I knew that this meant a lot to me.
It worked out…. We will now be going back again before the
end of the year to use the tickets. And
I’m still a little girl at heart, because my parents still saved the day for
me. And for that, I’m eternally
grateful and I love my parents. And all that they do for me. The end.
