tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4074204780253290132024-02-20T20:56:53.186-08:00The Life of a StarrBurstCourtney StarrBursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02645278477106502745noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-407420478025329013.post-72941395005291759862010-03-30T11:42:00.000-07:002010-03-30T12:38:24.734-07:00The Happiest Time Of My Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFM4GGqMFDX7SBwagNcp5nAXSC_FrtMZhRVd05YSSwtADvlrQf8QemC2XsthJ96-FnKdJaeYMvlMIzJEza_rh6ONqgqKwpS34UgSzKGfHFDAABUdzWQrdNkrdjf-lOoVy9E0Dw0x59y0E/s1600/bahamas+023.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFM4GGqMFDX7SBwagNcp5nAXSC_FrtMZhRVd05YSSwtADvlrQf8QemC2XsthJ96-FnKdJaeYMvlMIzJEza_rh6ONqgqKwpS34UgSzKGfHFDAABUdzWQrdNkrdjf-lOoVy9E0Dw0x59y0E/s320/bahamas+023.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454503109756360514" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">My parents got divorced when I was six years old and my dad moved back to his native country, the Bahamas several years later. I'd visit him a few times a year, but missing him terribly became a natural part of every day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A year and a half ago, my mother gave me the gift of us going to visit him.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was ecstatic, yet worried.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I hadn't seen my parents together in over a decade.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Would it be awkward? Would I be the liaison between the two of them in every conversation?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Do they even like each other enough for this?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Months went by and the last week of June rolled around.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was time to go.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We arrived in the Bahamas and took a cab to our hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I called my dad and he said he'd come to take us out to eat after work.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We just relaxed in our room and watched TV for several hours. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">Finally there was a knock at the door. It was a bellhop.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">“We have been calling your room. Dr. _____ has been waiting downstairs for hours.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">Hours? </span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language: EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">Our room telephone was broken! My mother and I frantically rushed around the room to get ready to meet my dad. I hoped he wasn’t mad.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He works hard all day long. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">I was ready first so I sprinted to the elevators with a million butterflies in my belly.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I missed my dad so much! <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Before I knew it, the elevator doors opened and I saw my poor dad. It was June in the Bahamas and he hates the heat. He was sweating so much.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I hugged him so tight that I think my arms wrapped around him twice.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He told me I looked beautiful. We were beaming with joy. Then my mother came downstairs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He was not mad. Everything was perfect.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">My dad took us to a great restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was lavishly furnished and the wait staff was incredible. We laughed and ate and laughed some more.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Everybody had stories to tell. My dad is a neurologist and he told us about this crazy white couple and their friend who come from Abaco to Nassau every month to see him. The threesome chatters away about their symptoms, each one interrupts the other to add more detail. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At the end of the visit, they pay him in lobsters and shrimps.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We laughed about his freezer full of seafood and his quest for more storage space.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We were all so sleepy and delirious that as the night went on, everything was funny.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">My parents got along famously and it was like we never left each other.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was strange to see them share food and sip wine from the same glass.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have very few memories of them as a couple. We ate and laughed so much we were tired.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My father said he was going back to the office. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was midnight, but he said he had patients in ICU that would wait up for him all night long if he didn’t show up.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">Two days later, my dad picked us up to spend the day at the Atlantis resort.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He brought two of his other daughters from other women. My mother was not pleased, but she maintained her composure.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Much to her chagrin, my sisters, ages five and eight, took to my mother immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They wanted her to teach them to swim and they kept splashing her, getting her hair wet.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When they wanted her attention, they would shout, “Courtney mummy! Courtney mummy! We swimmin!”<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was quite amusing. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;">My dad rested in a beach chair the whole time because I chose not to swim in the pool and he, “don’t like the sea water.” After an hour or so, my mom went to join him.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I had my sisters collect as many sea shells as they could find so I could bring them back to The States as souvenirs for my current crush. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We were in the water for hours while my dad lay in the heat sweating like a pig. Finally my mom said, “Court, we gotta go. Your dad is gonna die out here”.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>My sisters and I reluctantly got out of the water, but we didn’t leave the park without my dad forcing us to ride The Lazy River, a river ride my mother begged not to go on.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He smiled big and waved farewell as we four drifted away on two inner tubes. My mother scowled back at him and my sisters giggled with glee.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I don’t remember anyone ever getting my mother to do something she didn’t want to do before that day.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Her hairdo was soaked after the ride, but she couldn’t deny that she had fun.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It felt so great to have both my parents together in paradise to laugh and play like nothing ever went wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It was what my dreams had been like for nearly two decades.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>At one point during our week there, I decided that it was the happiest time of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>A stream of tears burst from my eyes as I realized that I would never be that happy again.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:200%"><span lang="EN-US" style="line-height:200%;mso-ansi-language:EN-USfont-size:8.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Courtney StarrBursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02645278477106502745noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-407420478025329013.post-21842104200968855042010-03-17T17:29:00.000-07:002010-03-17T17:32:15.921-07:00...Funny Dreams... !When we were younger, my little brother and I used to play a lot. One time he was trying to act like he was asleep and I just knew he wasn't! I kept trying to make him say he was awake. I tried everything then finally, I decided to start tickling him. At first, he was just giggling a little and after a few seconds he was full blown belly laughing!! Instead of saying, "Okay, I'm up!!" he just kept his eyes closed while I was tickling him saying "FUNNY DREAMS!!!! FUNNNNNY DREEEEEEEEEAMS!!!" To this day, if one of us says "funny dreams" to the other one, we both bust out laughing!Courtney StarrBursthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02645278477106502745noreply@blogger.com6