Part 36: The Days Leading Up To My Departure

 The time had come. It was the second to last week of September and I was moving out. 

My grandpa helped me buy my first car, a classic Honda Civic. I could hardly believe it was mine. I could just get in and drive wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted. As I pulled away from the dealership, my grandpa followed behind in his own car. On the freeway, he passed me and gave me a thumbs up. I returned it, beaming, feeling like a real adult in my new car.

He sped ahead to catch his exit while I stayed behind, driving more slowly and a little nervously. Just as I began to relax, I noticed a strange, unpleasant smell, the kind you recognize instantly when something is burning that should not be. I glanced down and saw the coolant gauge in the red. Then smoke started rising from under the hood. I pulled off the freeway into a parking lot, my excitement fading as it became clear my car was in trouble.

Ethan came to my rescue and my grandpa came to pick the car up. He was going to take it to their mechanic but I was supposed to be driving this car to Calgary in a week and it couldn't make it a few blocks without smoking. 

- 

A few days before my departure, a friend of mine was also leaving for school in London, and I attended a goodbye party for him. Everyone was crying and hugging and it was the first time I remember feeling genuinely sad about moving. Jill and I drove together, and I spent most of the drive home trying not to cry.

We had started driving to and from church together, which meant we spent a lot of time talking in the car. One day, I played her Brody and my song, Tied by Imagine Dragons. There’s one lyric in particular that always gets me choked up: “I called you up just to say how much I thought of you today.”

It brings me back to the early days of Brody being in Guyana, when we could only talk once a week. I would wake up to texts from him telling me he was thinking about me, and those messages meant everything. The whole idea of the song is that even when you’re far apart, you’re still tied to each other somehow.

We sat quietly while the song played. Jill looked over and saw tears streaming down my face, and we both burst out laughing because I had been silently sobbing beside her the entire time. It was such a tender moment. In that moment I realized just how much I was going to miss her.

- 

My last Saturday in BC, I wanted to be in nature. So my family (plus a good friend of mine) packed up and went to Cascade Falls to walk the suspension bridge and look at the waterfalls. 

It's not like I really loved to hike. If you know me, you know that I actually hate to hike. But I knew that Alberta wasn't nearly as green so I wanted to soak it up. I also had many memories from my childhood coming to Cascade Falls with my mom, aunts and cousins. It was starting to sink in that I wasn't going to live here anymore, and that I wasn't a kid anymore. 

My parents gave me such an amazing childhood, that it was becoming painful to feel it come to an end. I have a hard time putting it into words. I loved Brody so much, that I wasn't replacing my family with him, I was preparing to bring him into it with us.

A few days before I left, I made a trip to Kelowna to see Manda and Ethan. I had never been by myself before and I had to say goodbye to them. I somehow don't have a single photo of this, but I swear it happened, and I'm happy it did. 

- 

The car was packed, my room was empty. The Civic hadn't been able to pull it together so I was taking our family car to Calgary. My mom, dad and Luke were going to drive me there and then fly back. I felt very irritable leading up to the drive, probably because I was in so much silent pain as I dealt with leaving. It breaks my heart when I think about how I might have been snappy with my family in the final days and hours. I was just a kid who was sad to leave her family. 

I went to drop Holly off at school. I was leaving that afternoon so I wouldn't see her before I left. As we got out of the car to hug goodbye, we laughed. We didn't hug often. But as I felt her body shake with laughter, it slowly transformed into tears. I hugged her and cried. Holly and I were able to spend a lot of time together over the past few years as we nannied together, but it wasn't enough. I was going to miss her so much. 

Next was Jill. She had to leave to pick Luke up from school, and when we hugged goodbye, all we could do was laugh. I stood outside watching her drive away, waving as she made her way up the hill. A few minutes later, she sent me a video of herself crying, talking about how every song that came on during the drive to the school seemed to be about needing someone who wasn’t there. I wanted to be there. I knew I wanted to be with Brody, but in that moment I also realized I wasn’t ready to leave behind the people I loved here.

Then we went. As we drove, I leaned my head against the backseat window of the Jetta. It was taking every strength I had to not burst into tears. I have always had a hard time crying in front of my parents. I didn't want them to know that I was struggling with moving away. But I was. I couldn't believe that I didn't live with them anymore, and I still can't believe that I'll never live with them again. 

I thought about all of those times when my family was watching a show and I was in my room with the door closed. Or I decided not to go to Costco with my mom. Or I was mean to them or short tempered with my siblings. Suddenly it all felt like time I would never get back, and it was too late. I was an adult, I was moving out and I didn't live at home anymore.