Sunday, September 12, 2010
Hasta la vista
I remember as a little girl, me and my younger brother, getting extremely angry with my parents. I'm sure they had told us we couldn't play outside anymore, or something simple like that, but to a seven and five year old, those sorts of things mean a lot. In my anger I promptly stormed to my room. I soberly informed my little brother we were running away, took my little dress up suitcase from the closet...and proceeded to pack my doll-sized china tea set, and train tickets from a board game we had. My brother and I bundled up in our jackets, and with stern faces headed out the door. I was absolutely convinced I was leaving for good. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that the same train tickets that won that board game would work at the nearest train station we came to. Of course a train ticket, is a train ticket. My parents were sitting calmly in the living room as we told them we were leaving. I expected them to be a bit more upset than they were, and was disappointed by their reaction (or lack there of). We walked down our long dirt drive way and headed out onto the road, passing our neighbor's house as she popped her head out the door to ask where we were going. "We've decided to run away" I told her matter-of-factly and kept up my brisk pace, practically dragging Caleb behind me. The more we walked the more my courage began to wane. I felt very responsible all of a sudden and a bit worried about taking care of both me and my brother. After all, I hadn't packed any food, just the plates to eat it on. Not too far down the road we heard the sputtering, trusty, old green family car behind us. Dad was behind the wheel, driving slowly along. I (of course) was not to be swayed, and kept on walking, determined to begin a life of independence. Dad said to us, "Would you like to come home and we'll have some donuts for breakfast, than maybe you can runaway after that?" I stopped. Contemplated the thought. Turned to discuss plans with Caleb, and said, "Well, I guess we can come back for a short while." And that was the end of our grand plan to head east on the train.
I laugh now at that story, but a there is a lot of truth in the fact that I would rather run away from things than put up with them. I have a prideful-stubborn streak that says "I'm taking control now, and leaving. See how you like that."
If only goodbye actually was that easy, I probably would do it a lot more often. It's probably good that it's not.
Posted by GLB