visits.

My parents and my brother are visiting me this weekend. This is in short, incredibly stressful.

Because, really - I am terrified of not being my parents.

My parents are the model of immigrant success. My father worked for the same company for about 30 years, transfering to multiple countries in the process and ending up in Northern California. He started as a technician, and ended up a vice president of a multinational semiconductor company. My father retired in his early 50's, my parents own their house, and my brother is getting a full ride through college.

My mother is an artist. She has a precise aesthetic, coupled with a constant need to experiment with new mediums and techniques. Her studio at our home is a playground. She handles cauldrons of melting bronze without fear. She welds better than I do. She drafts better than I do.

My parents have always unflinchingly supported my choices - "I'm going to major in Technical Theatre", "I'm going to Vermont for a few months", "I'm going to grad school", "I'm going to move in with two boys", "I'm going to quit grad school", "I'm going to freelance as a theatre technician."

Occasionally, I am jealous of my brother, who is getting the full financial support that I could only have dreamed of. But, at the same time - I never asked. Instead, they taught me financial planning, and I have nearly paid off all my debt. My dad taught me how to solder, my mother taught me how to cook. My dad gave me my first computer, my mother gave me a kiln. They taught me just about everything, really.

"We are proud of you." they said, "We're just really glad that you are doing what makes you happy."

I shouldn't be worried, because they have never doubted my ability to succeed. But, I am terrified that their trust is misplaced. I am scared that I am not as intelligent as my father and not as artistic as my mother.

I am afraid that my brother, who was valedictorian of his class, with his high SAT scores, and agreeable girlfriends and his acceptance to a college known for their engineering program will see that what my years of education, and all my multiple part time jobs in college and that all he respects in me has led me to a small studio and a job I am conflicted about.

I know I shouldn't worry, and yet I do. They have no reason to worry about me at all.

It's just that I know that I'm not the prodigal daughter, at least not compared to my brother, and they love me anyway. I feel like I am very much my parents, and being that mirror, my successes are theirs, and my failures are - well, that is self explanatory. I am really more a reflection of my parents than my brother is. I have their faults. I have their impulses, and their odd neuroses and quirks, and I am afraid that they see those in me.

I am afraid that all I have created is an illusion of confidence and competence and self sufficiency and that it will fall apart when my mother asks me where the salt is. I haven't bought salt. I know it's about ninety seven cents for a pound of Morton's Iodized Salt, but I just haven't bought any.

Maybe I'll just buy salt tomorrow morning.

That might make me less stressed.