Once we leave home, do we still know our parents? Or do we just remember them like we remember mountains or the ocean? I was about to get to know my parents, know them in the immediate present, watch them walk, talk, scream and cry. Suddenly, I had the opportunity to get to know their living, breathing selves once again. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. This book was originally written as blog posts, composed in the clove of the moment in order to maintain an original intensity.