Time Stands Still
1/1
If you were in my shoes, I’m sure you would’ve done things differently. But with the salty breeze blowing through my hair with every curve of the mountain, I was assured that I had finally made the right move after three years of constant second-guessing. I drove into my hometown without my stomach flipping upside down, a good sign. Feeling good about my return, I took exit 23 toward the abandoned pier to revisit the good times before heading toward the bad.
I drove right onto the beach, parking as close to the crashing waves as I could. I left my door open, the engine on and the radio turned up. I stepped onto the sand and instantly kicked my shoes off, needing to feel the sand between my toes. I walked a few feet away from my car so the music was a faint murmur in my ears and sat down, staring out at the crumbled pier. The sun was causing the sky to turn a bright orange as it lowered toward the horizon.
This place was the home to so many memories I once held dear to my heart. Fishing off the pier before it sank, summer nights sitting around a fire with my boyfriend, my only best friend, at my side, getting sun burns so bad they required a visit to the hospital; it was all a thrill, a simple enjoyment. I had finally reached the top of the world and nothing could tear me down. I was young and invincible.
The waves gradually pulled away from the shore. The uneasy feelings started to come back in a flood when I noticed a couple heading this way from the opposite end of the beach. This spot was no longer mine, and it hadn’t been ours for a long time. I stood and brushed the sand from my shorts and legs. There was no use sitting around at a spot that holds too many used-to-be’s and getting my heart broken all over again, this time by the memories.
I was almost at my car when I heard it, the song my mother would sing while she shuffled through the house. When I was 16, she had a major stoke and the doctors declared it was a miracle she was still alive. She had changed so drastically, though. She mumbled a lot and she kept to herself. She would fidget and scare easily. She ultimately wasted away to a shell of herself.
I began spending all of my time at my boyfriend’s house to avoid the situation at home. I was lucky his family accepted me as if I had been their own because I had no one else to turn to.
I would stop in every once and a while to see how she was doing, how Dad was holding up. But she wasn’t getting better and Dad was always a little more run down than the last time I had seen him.
On the night of my high school graduation, she had a rare lucid moment. She grabbed my wrist at the dinner table and said, with a wild look in her eyes, “You were born an original, don’t die a copy.” She then began mumbling the words to her song as she rocked back and forth, “Time catches everyone and the world goes round the sun.”
I gave my father a hug after dinner and kissed mom’s cheek, promising I’d never die a copy and that I’d see her soon. But Dad knew I had packed a duffle earlier in the day and hid it in the trunk of my car; he knew I wasn’t coming back after the graduation ceremony. And I didn’t go back.
Three years had gone by and I was home. I had lived as much as I could and I had come to terms with my teenage years. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as I drove down a quiet country road. A familiar blue van was parked outside a metal gate marking the entryway. I parked behind it and slowly ambled through the gates, taking my time as I approached my destination.
“Roma,” he said warmly with his back to me. I smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly before I kneeled down beside him.
“Hey daddy,” I said softly.
He forced a smile and willed the tears away. “She’s okay now. She’s here, all around us.”
I nodded, twisting my legs beneath me. The soil was freshly disturbed and the chunks of sod shifted under my weight. I looked at her headstone and saw our reflections in it, both of us read the engraving: the memory lives on in my heart, going back to the start
I smiled as I leaned my head against my father’s shoulder. I could feel my mother’s embrace wrap around both of us, protecting us from whatever life was going to throw in our way next.
I drove right onto the beach, parking as close to the crashing waves as I could. I left my door open, the engine on and the radio turned up. I stepped onto the sand and instantly kicked my shoes off, needing to feel the sand between my toes. I walked a few feet away from my car so the music was a faint murmur in my ears and sat down, staring out at the crumbled pier. The sun was causing the sky to turn a bright orange as it lowered toward the horizon.
This place was the home to so many memories I once held dear to my heart. Fishing off the pier before it sank, summer nights sitting around a fire with my boyfriend, my only best friend, at my side, getting sun burns so bad they required a visit to the hospital; it was all a thrill, a simple enjoyment. I had finally reached the top of the world and nothing could tear me down. I was young and invincible.
The waves gradually pulled away from the shore. The uneasy feelings started to come back in a flood when I noticed a couple heading this way from the opposite end of the beach. This spot was no longer mine, and it hadn’t been ours for a long time. I stood and brushed the sand from my shorts and legs. There was no use sitting around at a spot that holds too many used-to-be’s and getting my heart broken all over again, this time by the memories.
I was almost at my car when I heard it, the song my mother would sing while she shuffled through the house. When I was 16, she had a major stoke and the doctors declared it was a miracle she was still alive. She had changed so drastically, though. She mumbled a lot and she kept to herself. She would fidget and scare easily. She ultimately wasted away to a shell of herself.
I began spending all of my time at my boyfriend’s house to avoid the situation at home. I was lucky his family accepted me as if I had been their own because I had no one else to turn to.
I would stop in every once and a while to see how she was doing, how Dad was holding up. But she wasn’t getting better and Dad was always a little more run down than the last time I had seen him.
On the night of my high school graduation, she had a rare lucid moment. She grabbed my wrist at the dinner table and said, with a wild look in her eyes, “You were born an original, don’t die a copy.” She then began mumbling the words to her song as she rocked back and forth, “Time catches everyone and the world goes round the sun.”
I gave my father a hug after dinner and kissed mom’s cheek, promising I’d never die a copy and that I’d see her soon. But Dad knew I had packed a duffle earlier in the day and hid it in the trunk of my car; he knew I wasn’t coming back after the graduation ceremony. And I didn’t go back.
Three years had gone by and I was home. I had lived as much as I could and I had come to terms with my teenage years. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as I drove down a quiet country road. A familiar blue van was parked outside a metal gate marking the entryway. I parked behind it and slowly ambled through the gates, taking my time as I approached my destination.
“Roma,” he said warmly with his back to me. I smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly before I kneeled down beside him.
“Hey daddy,” I said softly.
He forced a smile and willed the tears away. “She’s okay now. She’s here, all around us.”
I nodded, twisting my legs beneath me. The soil was freshly disturbed and the chunks of sod shifted under my weight. I looked at her headstone and saw our reflections in it, both of us read the engraving: the memory lives on in my heart, going back to the start
I smiled as I leaned my head against my father’s shoulder. I could feel my mother’s embrace wrap around both of us, protecting us from whatever life was going to throw in our way next.