Mis padres...

Last weekend marked my first visitors, my parents. I was so happy to see them. I picked them up at the airport Thursday night, which is where the adventure begins. From there, we headed to my apartment to drop off the luggage, and then we headed to Bighorn Brewing Co. for an appetizer and some beer. I got my dad to drink Buttface with me, and my mom tried the Light homebrew, which she enjoyed. I don't think my dad was ready for Buttface, but then again, my mom and I are the beer drinkers in the family. After that, we went back to my apartment and crashed to prepare for Friday.

I had Friday off because I've been working 9 hour shifts, and it was so sweet! Anyhow, we headed up to Boulder to meet Brett for lunch at Snarf's. We were early, so we went up to the Flat Irons, and while we hiked, I explained how this geological formation occurred. It was my way of saying, "Mountains meet my parents, mom and dad, meet the mountains". After that, we headed down to Snarf's. What a great place to get sandwiches! We had a good meal, socialized a bit, and then headed up to Estes Park for some scenery. We took the Peak to Peak Highway and stopped at the St. Catherine of Sienna church, which is strategically placed right in front of Mt. Meeker. Once I meet my wife, this is where we will tie the knot (she and her parents don't have a choice in the matter). My mom loved the church and said it was the neatest thing she'd seen yet. From there, we went up to Estes Park and started up Trail Ridge Road. The weather was especially perfect, which is rare, since it normally rains when it's after noon in the mountains. Apparently, my mom is afraid of being inside a vehicle at more than 9,000 feet above sea level because it was right about there that she started asking me to turn around. Like a good son, I ignored her and kept driving. Soon we were above the timberline and driving on roads that thousands of people drive on every Summer, but apparently my mother felt like we could pull a "Thelma and Louise" at any moment. We made it to the top, my dad and I got out, we had our picture taken, and then we high-tailed it back down into mom's comfort zone. Since mom took one for the team, dad and I followed her around for awhile as she looked at shops in town. We ate dinner at the Wapiti Pub, drank some beers, and listened to some live country guy named Ronnie Furr. They were having a great time and didn't realize it was because they were drinking beer at 7,500 ft above sea level (less O2 gets you a better buzz). After that, we got ice cream and drove back into the park to see if the stars would come out, but the moon was too bright. We headed back to Denver.

For Saturday, I had originally planned on taking them up Mount Evans, but after the Trail Ridge Road incident, I figured it was best if I skip that. It's a shame too because the view from Mt. Evans is spectacular and is only open Memorial Day to Labor Day! So Mt. Evans was out, but we went to Red Rocks and Vail, which were both really neat places. We took the scenic route over Loveland Pass to Vail, which only worked out because mom was asleep over the steep parts. Vail was ritzy, but cool. We enjoyed lunch at the Red Lion and followed it up with ice cream from Marble Slab. The weather was absolutely gorgeous. We couldn't have asked for better conditions. After returning from Vail, we met my dad's army buddy Gary and his family for dinner. We went to Isla Morada, which is located at the local Bass Pro Shop. It sounds fake, but I assure you it's real, and my meal was incredible. After dinner we headed back to Gary's house where he and my father reminisced and told stories about Vietnam. I have a strong admiration for my father, but I think I admire him the most when he tells those stories about the war. They're not about killing and bloodshed, but about people, relationships, and the feelings of war (fear and adrenaline). I would relate the friendships my father made in Vietnam to the friendships I made in college, only my bonds probably aren't quite as strong as those forged in war. After several stories and some awesome homemade pies, we went back to the apartment.

Sunday was low key, and was supposed to be. We went to church, had lunch with my mom's friend Mary, and then we helped mom out as she arranged my apartment. She is an interior decorator, and she is VERY, VERY good at what she does. I have complete faith in her, and rarely contest anything she suggests. I'm not a mama's boy, she's just that good. After decorating, we had a small dinner and just enjoyed each other's company.

Early Monday morning, I dropped my parents off at the airport. It was sad to say goodbye to them, since I know I won't see them again until Thanksgiving, but that's the choice I made by moving out here, and I'll live. Most the time, living here feels great, but sometimes you can't help, but miss people.