That May was supposed to be a celebration of my graduation, but now that was non-existent. My mom decided we should take a vacation, to celebrate the survival of the worst thing that had happened to us; I think anyway. It was also getting closer to me leaving and going back to school. Everything was about to change again.
As hard as it was to fathom, Houston would no longer be our home. At the end of May, we found ourselves at a beach house in Galveston. It was my mom, her friend Pam, Jon, me, my sister, her husband, my niece and nephew. We enjoyed our time there at a small four-bedroom beach house knowing once it was over, I’d be going back to Oklahoma.
It felt surreal being at Galveston. It was our first outing together, as a family without him. Memories of all our trips to the beach as a kid-filled up my mind. I tried not to think about those things. On the beach we spent hours in the water, walking, collecting shells until we were spent. The first night, I laughed at my niece for suddenly crashing asleep at the dinner table, immediately after eating. An hour later, I felt the same wave of violent exhaustion hit me as if I were about to die.
On one particular day, it was cloudy and rainy but there was no thunder. The beach was deserted and gray, not a soul in sight. I ran out in the water, absorbing each moment of that rainy opportunity. My nephew joined me as white sheets of rain marched down the shore. It was quite a sight to see, complete emptiness on Galveston beach. We bobbed up and down in the water wildly together, laughing like we were on our own private island.
I knew then that it was such a rare occurrence that will never happen again. It was one of the most precious moments during that entire year and possibly in my life.
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A week went by and we had our fun. Now it was time for me to go back to Oklahoma. I had to get back and mentally prepare for school. Back to facing the world in general. Leaving was a process that I did not know how to prepare for. I had left Houston on and off throughout my twenties, always knowing I would be back. But now it was different, now it was going to be final.
The day before we left I had a breakdown. I was driving in my dad’s car with Jon. I started to split apart under the anxiety of it all. We were parked in the same lot where endless memories of my childhood had taken place. Where the Tropical Snow truck used to be. All the summers of shaved ice in fluorescent colors that my brain can resurface as if I’m watching it happen in real-time. My dad always got green apple and I got a rainbow. It was the same place where we parked to go to the store, my dad wheeling the carts back to the van. How could this be happening?
I became unhinged. All my ability to deny what was happening, no longer possible. I remember shaking, screaming, and sobbing maniacally. It all came pouring out in a forceful wave. I was angry, I was hurting and I didn’t know how to process any of it. All of it was over now. My dad, my home, my world, it was all gone in one violent turn of six months. I’d never be there again. There would be no trips back home, to my beautiful house or my parents outside watering their garden. It felt like I was being ripped apart all at once. My pain wouldn’t end there and in fact, it was beginning.
Shine A Light On Me 