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.