We had every intention to get ourselves to the next to final day of the Biennale at Cockatoo Island on Saturday, but the lines for the free ferry were nauseatingly long, and the parking meter was sickeningly short. Instead, we made light of our day, and absorbed ourselves in what other delights the Biennale had to offer within the confines of the City.
And bless my parents for taking us to Via Napoli on Sunday as a celebratory birthday dinner for Dom and I. With pizza that was equally as delicious as Lucio's and freshly made cake by Emily, it truly was the best way to end a great weekend.
Two weeks ago, we celebrated a very special Father's Day. After a short-lived yet fearfully anxious few days, I got back my father in one piece from the hospital. I always have these morbid thoughts, of how I would feel should my parents or brother pass away suddenly, and even though it's never been a reality the sensation that it conjurs is enough to bring tears to my eyes. This time though, it was almost a reality, and yet I had to summon every ounce of strength and positivity from within my skin and believe that everything was going to be ok despite not truly knowing what was going on.
Thankfully, my father is back home, and in good health, and I couldn't have been happier to spend the day with my wonderful family, and appreciating every moment of love that they inject into my life.
My parents are still very much the lovebirds that they were back in Iran. Their adoration of one another glows, and is infectious.