This past summer, my parents enjoyed their first summer of retirement, it involved a lot of gardening and landscaping projects around the house. They really enjoyed themselves, and I got to eat of a lot of fresh vegetables! See, I’m currently living with them in my childhood home, and man, I really love this house. Obviously, it’s largely sentimental, but there are some legitimate upsides to the house and land. I’ve mentioned this to them–that I’d prefer if they didn’t sell the house–that it should be kept in the family (my siblings have said the same thing.) But my dad says no, they’ll probably sell the place, but they also haven’t made any efforts to do so in the past year.
So one evening as the sun is setting, at the end of summer, my dad and I are outside talking. We’ve been pulling brush out of the field and were taking a breather. “Hey dad, come on, you can’t sell this place. It’s too good. I want.”
“No, no, no. You don’t want this place, it’s too much work. You want a nice Walden Pond.”
“I’m sorry — what — did you just make a Thoreau reference?!” My mouth agape.
My dad, who barely passed high school, who I’ve rarely seen with a book in his hands, made a Thoreau reference. It just tickled me pink. No matter how much we think we know people, we never really do, and it’s wonderful when the unexpected is something positive!