Check it out, Sherri and I created a Waterfront Swings version of Michaelangel's ceiling painting at the Sistine Chapel! They really should just replace that image with this one.
I got up this morning at about 5:40, and I got myself down to Pier 50 to catch the Kitsap Fast Ferry to Bremerton that left at 8:00. There was a very minor delay, though I didn't know quite how much the delay was until the Fast Ferry was actually leaving—in the end, it left at 8:05 rather than the scheduled 8:00, which was fine. It still made me a little nervous, as the Fast Ferry crossing to Bremerton is 30 minutes and the Bremerton ferry to Seattle that Dad and Sherri were aiming to catch was scheduled to leave at 8:45. This meant I had only a 15-minute turnaround time at the Bremerton Ferry Terminal, and with even the five-minute delay, I had only a 10-minute turnaround time.
I even called Dad's cell phone right before I left the condo. Dad was obviously driving, because Sherri answered the phone, with "Good morning!" I asked if they were still aiming for the 8:45 ferry, and Sherri said, "We're still aiming for it!" I took that to mean they were on their way but not yet fully confident they would make it on time. I figured that even if they missed the 8:45 ferry, we could all just hang out until the next one—no biggie. I just really didn't want to miss the 8:45 ferry if Dad and Sherri were actually
on it. Not that that would have been that big a deal anyway: they were taking the vehicle ferry operated by Washington State Ferries, which is a 60-minute crossing. The next Fast (30-minute) Ferry out of Bremerton was at 9:15, which would have gotten me back to Seattle at 9:45—the exact same time the vehicle ferry would be arriving.
None of the worry mattered. I got to Bremerton at 8:35, and had plenty of time to walk into the terminal from the Fast Ferry pier, and up to where the passenger loading happens for the vehicle ferries. Dad and Sherri were there, waiting. I saw Dad walking into the terminal right before I did, and I took me a minute to be certain it was actually him: he was wearing a hat, which he doesn't always do, but did today to protect his bald spot from sunburning. I was certain it was him when I finally caught up to both of them at the same time Dad reached Sherri, sitting on some seats in the Bremerton Ferry Terminal.
Dad's hat was hilarious, by the way. It says "
OLDER THAN DIRT" on it. I was told the hat was dyed with very old dirt from Hawaii. Indeed, the hat has a little map of Hawaii on its side.
This is particularly kind of funny, given that Dad just turned 70 this month. I've been thinking a lot about the aging of my parents in recent months, maybe in large part precisely because Dad turned 70. Maybe they would not particularly want to know how much I think about these things, I don't know. But I can remember the days when Dad and Sherri were my age, and
they had parents the age they are now, and what kinds of things they had to think about in regards to them. Do they think at all about how now they are in that same position, in relation to their own children? It's a strange thing to be conscious of how your parents are becoming old people before your eyes. Certain things change, subtly but still perceptively—the way they talk, the way they walk, the way they move, the health concerns they have.
Sherri did ask me today what age I think of as "old" now. My first answer was ninety. But then I said, "I think of eighty as pretty old, actually. And based on experience with several family members now, between seventy and eighty seems to be a pretty transitional period." Sherri, who turned 70 three years ago, and Dad are now squarely within that period.
There's another thing I think about in relation to all of this: how very young both Dad and Sherri were when they became parents. Dad was 17 when Christopher was born; 20 when I was born. Now that my next birthday will be 50, the difference seems far less great than it was when I was a kid—it's almost like we're all growing old at the same time. Sherri was 17 when Angel was born; 19 when Gina was born. Sherri is three years older than Dad, though, which means that, even though he was far from meeting Sherri at the time, he was all of 14 years old when
Angel was born. I told Angel that not long ago, and she was like, "Ew! Don't tell me that!" Ha!
I'm going to digress for a moment, an mention again that I fucked up my back behind my left shoulder for a good two days after my last day in Minneapolis, because I had carried my small suitcase while also carrying my heavy backpack all over the place—both to Minnehaha Falls and to the Mall of America. The soreness in the back of my left shoulder for the next two days left me certain it was because I did that. I thought: I'm pushing 50, and I should never do that again. I guess my point is: even I am breaking down. It's fucking depressing!
And you know how, even though I was his second child, Dad was all of 20 when I was born? It does make me think: when Dad passes away, once I am done with what I am sure will be a significant amount of grieving, I will then be left to think to myself,
Well, I guess I've got twenty years left. On the plus side, Grandpa McQuilkin lived to the age of 86. I think Dad can beat him! I think he can make it to at
least 90. I believe in you, Dad! And I'd be 70 years old at that point. Who has living parents at the age of 70? I will, goddammit!
It's a minor bummer that Dad can't really do the bike rides we used to do regularly, but he's still quite good with walking. Sherri has historically had more difficulty with walking, but even she did quite well today. By all accounts, all three of us had a really great day today—even though for a while of it, Sherri just sat on a bench under a canopy in Victor Steinbrueck Park, while Dad and I went up to the Olympic Sculpture Park.
Even though I genuinely love the Olympic Sculpture Park, it clearly didn't quite meet Dad's expectations. Any and all promotional materials for this park, which is owned, operated and maintained by the Seattle Art Museum, very much highlights
The Eagle, the park's centerpiece sculpture—and that put him under the impression that the park was full of other sculptures with the same color and similar shapes.
The Eagle is the only piece of its kind there, though, because every piece there is unique. Dad conceded that it was a nice park and assured me he didn't
dislike it, but he was also glad he never made a special trip to Seattle just for the Olympic Sculpture Park. To be fair, I would never recommend anyone visit Seattle for that park alone either. It's simply something I consider very worth checking out if you happen to be nearby.
Here's a bit of irony: when Shobhit and I went to the Seattle Aquarium in September last year to check out the spectacular new
Ocean Pavilion, I complained about the price—our two tickets combined came to $88—but also rationalized it was worth it by saying it's not as big a deal to pay that much if you don't expect to go again for another decade or so.
Well, here it is just short of one year later, and I went again! Thankfully I had budgeted $100 just for this visit today, so it wasn't that big a deal in terms of budgeting—although the Aquarium alone sucked up nearly half that amount. So, was it worth it? Not quite as worth it as it had been to see the new facility for the first time a year ago, but
certainly worth it to spend time with Dad and Sherri today. I wasn't going to go home after only about three hours with them just because I wanted to be a cheap bastard. Plus, I really thought they should see it.
Photos I took at the Seattle Aquarium today counted 26—roughly half of the 50 shots total I kept for
the full photo album for Dad and Sherri's visit today. Half stil of those—12—were taken at the Ocean Pavilion; Seattle Aquarium is now comprised of three buildings, and we went through all three. There was a little bit of chaos in the main, oldest building as there was clearly a class outing of some sort, with probably 20 kids, all of them wearing reflective vests for easy identification. We didn't spend as much time in that building, but spent a fair amount of time in the Pier 60 section, which has the seals and otters and the Underwater Dome that I can still remember seeing as a kid.
Based on the timestamps of my photos, we were at the Seattle Aquarium about two and a half hours: we got there at 12:30, and we left at around 3:00. This itself was after Dad and I returned from the Olympic Sculpture Park, met back up with Sherri, and we then found a place for lunch at Pike Place Market. I had initially suggested Old Stove Brewing Co. at the Pike Place MarketFront, which has spectacular views but Sherri thought was a little pricey. I then suggested we go to the Beecher's Cheese store, where they sell sandwiches, soup, and mac & cheese. Even that place is a bit pricey, but I likely still spent a bit less there than I would have at Old Stove. I had a grilled cheese sandwich with a small cup of tomato bisque, which I spent $19.33 on, but I thought it was worth every penny. I don't know that I have ever had a better grilled cheese sandwich
or a better tomato bisque. Usually I really wish I had at least some crackers to go with the rest of my tomato soup once I'm done with a sandwich I have for dipping, but this tomato bisque was so delicious I loved it even on its own.
The last twenty minutes or so at the Seattle Aquarium were spent at the Aquarium Cafe, which I'm sure has been there all along but I hadn't ever even known
existed. It could be argued I basically wasted eleven bucks here: it was so hot today I wanted some ice cream, so I got a little cup of "Nutty Squirrel" peanut butter ice cream from their freezer even though it cost six bucks; and then I also got a Strawberry Izze Soda, a brand I used to drink a lot of and hadn't had in a long time. To be fair, it was delicious. And, in the end, between the Seattle Aquarium, lunch at Beecher's Cheese, and these items at the Aquarium Cafe, I spent a total of $77.31 today—$22.69 under budget!
I have to give credit and thanks to Dad and Sherri for my staying under budget, though, because Dad really wanted to go on the
Wings Over Washington ride at Miner's Landing on Pier 57. When he told me it costs $24 for something that lasts 20 minutes, I said, "I think I'll skip that one." And truly, I would have happily just waited for them—20 minutes is not a long time at all, especially when you're someone like me who is often okay with standing in line for things for an hour or more. I just didn't want to spend that much money for something that brief.
So then Sherri kind of made an executive decision. "I think we should treat our tour guide for the day," she said, and so Dad covered by ticket, as well as his and Sherri's, for Wings Over Washington. I did have the Seattle Great Wheel as a tentative item on my list for the day, until I found out he and Sherri had not only already been on it once before (I've been on it
eleven times—with different people every single time), but Dad thought—and this is quoted verbatim—"it was just okay." Sacrilege! He thinks Wings Over Washington is way more worth the price, and enjoyed it so much he has long thought he would do it again, given the chance. He even said today that he would do it yet again if ever given a chance.
And I have to say; I still think the price is a little insane for something that lasts only 20 minutes, but! It really is a blast, even if it does come at the cost of an incredibly corny, uber-touristy introduction in a separate room first, with a "park ranger" chatting at us through screens designed to look like doorways he's talking to us through. The ride really makes you feel like you're soaring over iconic places all over the State of Washington, and it's truly worth it especially if you really love this state, as I do. I enjoyed it so much that I am now trying to think of friends I could go back and ride it with. I would just need to budget for it, is all. Honestly I think even Shobhit would really enjoy it.
That was the last major thing we did today. At first Dad was thinking they would aim for the 5:30 ferry back to Bremerton. Then, for a bit, he was aiming for the 4:15 ferry, when he thought we had basically exhausted all the things of interest to do. But then he remembered he really wanted to do Wings Over Washington, and so we did that. We might still have made the 4:15 ferry, but Sherri wanted to get some food to go from the Meat Pies place a couple of piers further south. By that point it was cutting it really close, so Dad settled back on the 5:30 bus, and ordered a beer to pass a little time. He noted that to get to the 4:15 ferry by that point, "We'd really have to hoof it," and Sherri said, "I don't hoof it."
This also gave me some time to take them down to the Pioneer Square Habitat Beach, which Laney and I really like and is a tiny little beach park right next to Colman Dock on its south side. Dad had ordered a clam chowder from Ivar's and Sherri had some, and soon enough she needed to head back to the terminal to use the bathroom. Dad and I followed soon after.
I hung out with them for a while in the terminal, before I finally bid them farewell at about 5:10. I did ask them to come outside briefly so I could get a group selfie with the city behind us, and I'm really glad I did, because the shot turned out great, and was the only shot I got of all three of us together today. Sherri did request one more photo, of
just the two of us, hugging.
Sherri did seem almost peculiarly sentimental at times today. On the ferry ride back from Bremerton this morning, she asked if I had spoken to Christopher recently (nope), and then told me he has been on her mind so much lately that she recently made the taco salad he apparently loved when she'd make when we were kids.
Around the time we took those final pictures today, we talked a little about how long we've been in each other's lives. She said, "I can't imagine what life would be like without you." And instead of just accepting the compliment like a normal person, I said, "It would be cold and desolate," like a typical Matthew. I did also note that Sherri came into my life when I was all of 5 years old, which means she's been in my life for basically as long as I can remember. I have maybe two or tthree memories from before then, and they are pretty vague. Indeed, Sherri and I have known each other for 44 and a half years—which is, for me, a lifetime.
Shortly after I had Dad take a photo of Sherri and me on the waterfront swings this morning, and Sherri said we should hold hands, she capped that little moment by saying, "I love spending time with you, Matthew."
I replied, "Well that's nice to know! I love spending time with you too."
"As you should," she said, or something to that effect. In case you wondered where I might get my penchant for snarky replies.
It really was a great day today, and I had a great time. Yet another to add to the endless list of fantastic memories made with these parents of mine.
[posted 8:47pm]
