I was nine when we went on our first family vacation. My parents had finally saved enough money to rent a small cabin on a nearby lake. I wanted to go to the beach, but Dad assured me that the woods would be much more fun. I didn’t believe him, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings by showing my disappointment.
We left for the cabin right after school on Friday and arrived just before dusk, the best time of day, according to my father. It was too late to explore the woods, so we set up camp. Mom unpacked the food and duffel bags, while Dad tried to teach me how to build a fire. As we sat around the campfire roasting marshmallows, my parents told me the story of how they met.
My parents met at summer camp when they were both eight years old. Although they lived on opposite sides of the state, they kept in touch. They would send each other postcards and packages filled with random candies and toys. Eventually, they grew too old for summer camp, and they no longer saw each other every year. It wasn’t until seven years later, when my dad called my mom to tell her that he was staying in a neighboring town, that anything happened. They rekindled their love and three weeks later, they were married in a courthouse.
At nine years old, I thought that this story was the most amazing thing ever. It was as if the story of how they met was scripted by Disney or something. This was the first time that I ever realized just how much my parents loved each other.
For whatever reason, the memory of this weekend getaway is the only thing that calms me down when I start to slip into a depressive mourning state. I think it’s because, as cheesy as it sounds, I’m reminded of the love that our family used to share. Now that it’s just my Mom and I, I never feel any real happiness or love. Sure, I have moments, but Dad was who kept the flame alive.
“Lucy?” whispered a voice, “I really hate to do this to you, and I know I’m not your boss, but you really need to get back to work. You’ve been staring at that same wall for the past 15 minutes and I really need your help.”
Fantastic, now it's happening at work too. I feel like these black out moments are never going to stop. Maybe mom was right to schedule an evaluation for me. I mean, this can’t be normal, right? I don’t think that I can handle any more of this roller coaster of emotions.
Luckily, Spring was the one who caught me. I know she won’t report me to our boss; she’s kind of weird, and a little depressed herself, so I think that she understands what I’m going through.
During my lunch break, I went to the waffle place; to my surprise, I saw the younger woman there in the corner, and best of all, she was alone. I was thinking, "This is my chance, take it slow, it's been awhile since you've actually talked to people." As I walked over, we made eye contact, which made me speed up to get to her before it seemed that I was just staring at her. In my hurry, I slipped on the freshly mopped floor and fell. I slowly got up, shook myself off, and picked up the various keys and cards that had fallen out of my pockets. I looked up, embarrassed and about to run away, when I saw her stare, she hadn't laughed or anything, just sat there, I couldn't tell if she cared or not. I walked over and asked her if I could sit down in her booth, thankfully she said, "Yes." I introduced myself as Robin, and learned her name, Lucy. I continued to tell her that I had seen her earlier in the day and could see what she was going through and that I understood exactly how she felt. I told her that it wasn't totally her fault and that things could change, we could help eachother, but as I kept talking her face turned to disgust and she told me to leave right away, that she didn't have any business with strangers. I left quickly hoping that I hadn't ruined my chances, but I knew all hope was lost. I wished I had never come to this restaurant, to this town even. I wondered if my life would be easier or more exciting if I lived in a big city or near the ocean, maybe one day I should find out. One day I would, I would take my savings and travel to the nearest ocean and live there for a while instead of this small, foul-smelling town for a change. It was the end of my break, so I headed back to work, ashamed of the fear I had caused and seen in Lucy's eyes.
ReplyDeleteAfter work, I headed home and sat on the couch watching T.V. alone. The day had started off normally, but hsad turned out to be the most exhausting and emotionally stressful of my life, and it was not over yet. At 5:34, I heard a soft knock at the door. Immediately I turned the T.V. off and crept towards the door to peer through the peep-hole. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, Lucy was standing there, she looked tired and her eyes were puffy, like she had been crying recently. I unlocked the door and invited her in. Cautiously, she stepped in and held out her hand with something in it. She told me it was mine, that I had dropped it when I had fallen earlier that day. I looked closer, it was the dog tag that tied me to the institution where I had been imprisoned for so much of my life.
She said, "It took me awhile to decide to return it, but I looked up the place on the tag and I saw what you meant when you said you understood, your file was online because you aren't there anymore. My mom is thinking of doing the same thing to me." I was in awe, I thought I had scared her off, that I would never talk with anyone ever again, but she was here and everything was OK. Then she said, "I have to go before my mom starts to miss me, but I hope this means we can be friends." All I could do was nod in agreement and mumble confirmation of her statement, but it was enough. We shook hands and she left. I pinched myself to make sure it wasn't a dream, then went to sleep to see what my dreams could come up with that was better than what had just happened.
- Robin Moore