Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
After she lifted the last heavy box onto the bed of the U-Haul truck, I felt my mother’s cool hands on my face. The Midwestern heat and humidity were relentlessness and ultimately unforgiving. I could see a constant stream of sweat trickle down my forehead and onto the backside of her hands as I struggled to catch my breath. My lungs struggled as I tried to inhale the hot, damp summertime air. “This is going to be an awesome thing for us.”, she said unwaveringly. At this point I had already resigned to the fact we were moving again. We were truly a nomadic family of three. We went where the rent was the cheapest and the luxuries pretty much nonexistent. This time was different though. We had actually managed to buy a house. No more apartments. No more duplexes. Another new beginning, a way to restart.
I knew my mother was elated. I could sense the hurry and eagerness as I saw her open the van door. As happy as I was for her, I was crushed. I mean, I was so used to moving. I knew that we had overstayed our typical welcome in this particular place. Still, I had spent the last 3 years of my very young life accumulating, what I thought, was the best group of friends a boy could have. Filled with sorrow, I rattled off at least 20 people I was sure I couldn’t live without seeing the next day.
“But, but mom!”, I cried. “Can’t we just stay one more year? At least let me finish middle school here.” “I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to (insert random person here).” By this point, I had done everything within my power to sway her decision. No matter how much I begged, pleaded, and bargained, the move was happening. Defeated, I pull myself up into the van and plopped down onto the searing hot vinyl bench seat.
Lost in thought and selfish sadness, I heard the dull roar of the diesel engine fire up as my mom turned the key. As quickly as she shifted from park to drive, my life was changing. A new house, a new school, and all new friends. I can still remember the view from the rear view mirror like it was yesterday. I never wanted to leave that place, but it was time for us to go. I didn’t want to let go of everything I knew. But as fast as that U-Haul van could take me, I just drifted away.
ooof. my heart, TJ
lovely. superbly told, as always.
I had the opposite experience. I was in the same house from adoption to when I moved out at 18. but I saw many friends move away and it’s just as traumatic at the time. and then it just fades.
I’m pretty sure this is why I’m a fairly nomadic adult.
Ugh, so good, yet so painful. This is like a scene from my childhood, even though I stayed in one state, I can think of about 20 houses we lived in, 9 schools I switched between. Probably why I now keep friends everywhere except where I actually live and still am nomadic at heart.