I once read that moving abroad was an incredibly selfish act and I never really understood it. How could it be selfish? You’re moving out of everyones way as they continue on with life and you go on an incredibly scary (but hopefully rewarding) adventure. Of course that opinion changed as I was hugging my sister and sobbing in front of the airport, saying goodbye to my best friend and apologizing for leaving her all on her own and when my mom asked me “not to look at her for too long” because if I did, you could almost guarantee she would cry (this happened for about 2 weeks prior to me leaving). It was incredibly selfish of me. I had decided that I wanted to go about life alone for an entire year leaving all the people that cared about me behind. If anyone thinks moving out of the country isn’t selfish, they should try leaving their sobbing family behind in a airport.
At times I don’t think I deserve my family. They were nothing but encouraging, supporting and loving when I told them my plan to leave for the year. They left me letters to read whenever I got homesick, purchased big jackets for me incase I got cold and continued to pick up the phone no matter what time I called (I once accidentally called my dad at 2am his time because I was so excited to use my phone with out wifi… oops). Like any family we suffer from imperfections. But these imperfections are what makes us the Casey family and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Sometimes we’re so protective that we nag each other resulting in a temporary war or we’re so loving we become absolutely pissed if we feel one family member isn’t spending enough time with us.
Growing up my sister and I were nothing short of spoiled. My mom was a stay at home mom on the school board which meant she always had a say in our education and an influence on our teachers (although this may be a result of her small controlling issues… but all out of love I’m sure haha). She also ran the local pool over summer which meant my sister and I got to spend our summer days swimming, playing, harassing lifeguards and invading the “snack shack”. I also attribute those summer days to the reason Erin and I became such successful aquatic athletes. My dad worked insane hours at a local grocery store. He would get up in the middle of the night and work all night (and sometimes day) and was not a stranger to all nighters. He worked so incredibly hard just to make sure his family lived a comfortable life style. My sister and I have this cool trick where if we talk about how much we love our dad we can start crying on the spot. It’s fun. Really. Our parents truly did everything and anything for us. There was no such thing as a “parents vacation” but always family vacations. From camping at Jalama Beach every year, Disney Cruises and road trips to Oregon (just so I could go “out of state”) we did everything together. We were the epitome of a blue collar, middle class family but my parents did everything in their power to make Erin and I feel like we had all we ever needed. They raised us in a way that made us believe material items, money and a big house meant nothing because we had each other (cliche, I know but in all seriousness ask Kathy and Matt for parenting advice because I don’t know how they did it). So here I am 21 years 9 months and 2 days old reflecting on my childhood and all the amazing things my family has done for me.
Growing up I was spoiled rotten and not for material reasons but because of how much my family loved me. I am not sure I will ever be able to accurately describe how much my family means to me, so instead I will just thank them by writing down some of my favorite memories.
Erin- My partner in crime, who continued to pour cereal for me every morning even though I was clearly old enough to do it myself. Who allowed me to call her “sissy” for far too long. Who always had sleepovers with me on Christmas Eve or on the occasion when I was too scared to sleep by myself (which we both know happened FAR too frequently). Who would talk to me through the closet wall as we attempted to use a very poor version of morse code. Who had to learn how to compromise far too early if it meant keeping her dramatic younger sister happy. Who continued to love me even after I threw a remote at her knee and ran away in pure fear. Who taught me to be tough and that I will always be inferior at Tony Hawk Pro Skater. Who had to drive my teenie bopper ass everywhere when I was a freshman in high school and lived for Justin Bieber. And despite the fact we fought nearly every single day for about 8 years no one defended me more passionately. Story time: Freshman year a girl claimed she had a picture of me picking me nose and as I sat in the car crying because this was “the worst thing that could ever happen” (yes I was THAT dramatic) Erin grabbed my phone, got the girls number and proceeded to text her and rip her a new one. So bad that her mom replied and threatened to tell our parents. You can bet that girl admitted the picture never existed and never bothered me again. 🙂 Moral of the story is- Don’t mess with me because Erin Casey will take you down. But seriously, to the person I called when I found out I had a week off and dropped everything to come see her baby sister in Ireland and who always knows how to cheer me up. Thank you, thank you, thank you and I love you, I love you, love you.
Mom- My biggest fan and supporter. For always giving the best advice (even when it isn’t what I want to hear sometimes). For showing me that my gender will never hold me back and proving that there is nothing a strong worded email can’t fix. For ALWAYS picking up the phone. For making the best dinners and the world’s best mashed potatoes. For making sure Erin and I had the best Christmases ever (despite the fact we never got a trampoline…). For singing and dancing with me to Motown as we cleaned the house and for making sure I was always hanging out with the right crowd (even if that meant not allowing me to have sleepovers at certain peoples houses). For getting a video recording of my first homerun ever (even if the majority of the video is of your feet with the camera shaking as you screamed for me saying “wait was that, MY Molly?!”) For letting me lay on your lap while petting my hair back making me the happiest little kid ever. For listening to my pointless stories and always being involved in my education. For always being the one person there for me even when high school felt unbearable. For always being down for a movie night (or more recently binge watching a Netflix show). For always encouraging and supporting my interests (from African- American History to Watergate). For always reminding me I’m good enough and to never settle for anything less. For giving up your world to make sure your girls were happy. For making sure my bubble is never popped and for making me feel secure enough in the world to go on a year-long adventure by myself. For making me feel like the most loved person in the world. I hope one day I can be half the person you are. I love you so much mom.
Dad- to my main man, the person at every single softball, basketball, soccer, dance and gymnastics recital, swim meet and water polo game. Who woke up at 5am to make me scrambled eggs before a meet. Who taught me how to play catch and hit a softball. Who would bring me on his runs when in all reality we know they always ended with me on his shoulders singing. Who helped me catch my first fish. Who brought me to work on Saturdays (Frito Lay) and let me wreck havoc in his office. Who bought me all the stuffed animals, including the one I may or may not still own. Who made sure I had a valentine every year, and drove the motorhome in the wee hours of the morning as I slept in the back. For supplying the money to the best Christmases ever. Who texts me randomly just to tell me he loves me and for always understanding how incredibly busy I was for the past 4 years. For never failing to let me know how proud he is and for always taking care of his girls. And most importantly for kissing me goodbye and telling me he loved me every morning for 18 years before he went work (seriously this man never missed a day). I love my dad!
To my family- And finally for loving me despite the fact I was one bald, very very uncoordinated kid.
The Luck of the Irish 