My Last Year

My suitcase sat on my white bedspread, clothes strewn everywhere. Mom and I had gone to the mall and gotten new clothes for school. I folded the shorts Mom had chosen for me, they were pink and knee-length. I had a feeling they would end up buried in the back of my closet. I already put all my plane snacks into my purse and now I had a bunch of open bags I had to put away. I blinked a few times to hold back the tears in my eyes. Every year before this, packing my bag was fun because Shaelyn and I would complain together and help each other zip our overpacked bags; this year I was the only one packing my bag. I’d gotten my bag closed so I made my way downstairs.  Eamon sat watching the game with my dad. I gave him a hug, he had work in the morning so I wouldn’t see him until Christmas. “I’ll miss you Eam.” I said. The sounds of the TV in the background. He hugged me back tightly, as we both sniffled. It was his last year of high school before he left for university, and I was missing it.

I woke up late on the day we were supposed to leave, by the time I had gotten dressed and had my breakfast; everyone was already here. My hair was a mess and I didn’t have the time to make it. “Want me to braid your hair?” Mom asked. “Sure.” I agreed. I sat on the hardwood floor of my living room and mom began brushing through my hair, I winced lightly as she pulled it tight into a neat french braid. She frowned slightly, I knew this was her worried face. I hurriedly sipped my tea watching Aunt Mary-Cate and Alex make conversation. “Are you excited to be going back?” My Grandma asked. I mumbled noncommittally. I was tuning everyone out, my head was already full of worries about leaving, the flight, and whether our boarding passes would work. 

I dragged my feet as I walked out the door, “Help me put the bags in the car.” Dad called. I shivered as pulled my suitcase down the driveway, the dark sky and the kind of chill in the air that gets into your bones. The weather matched my mood perfectly. Mom tried her best to smile but it faltered when I gave her a hug. “I’ll see you at Christmas, make good choices and enjoy eighth grade.” She said. I sniffled and mumbled, “Ok, I’m going to miss you, mom.” She squeezed me tightly before letting go. Grandma and Aunt Mary-Cate gave me a tight hug, before letting go Grandma slipped me a 15-dollar bill. “Buy yourself something at the airport.” She said. I nodded.

Uncle Roe looked at his watch and said, “We should get going.” We got in the car and drove out of the driveway. As we turned the corner and I waved goodbye, I couldn’t hold back tears anymore. “Last year.” Dad said. I nodded in response. He and Uncle Roe started talking about baseball stats and I started watching a Netflix movie on my phone. I had gotten used to the routine of end-of-summer drives to the airport. Eamon would pester Mom and Dad about stopping at Tim Hortons a final time, Shaelyn would ignore us all and listen to music, I’d look out the window and make bets with my dad about who’d spot the first plane, and Mom would get fed up with our bickering and tell us all to be quiet. This year was different.

We got to the airport and I wanted to refuse to get out of the car and cry like when I was younger, but I knew that I couldn’t. I hugged Uncle Roe and we exchanged goodbyes. Dad squeezed my shoulders as we walked into the airport. “It’s only a year, it'll fly by before you know it.” My dad said. He was trying to be optimistic but I knew he hated it just as much as me. We walked over to the area where we had to print our luggage tags, “I can do it myself, I’m very good at technology.” Dad said.  I stood waiting as he failed to print our boarding passes and tried every known way to man to scan the QR code on his phone. I watched for ten minutes as he struggled to figure it out, I texted Alex and Eamon goodbye again. Dad finally figured out how to scan the code and printed the luggage tags. “Don’t try the check the bags in yourself.” I said, “I’d like to not miss our flight.” Dad laughed sarcastically but agreed to ask for help.  Once we checked our bags we lined up for security. Whenever we had to wait in long lines, my brother would push my sister and me and make way too much noise. I hated it, but when he wasn’t there, I missed it. We made our way through security and tried to find our gate. I got a Starbucks as we walked through the airport. We found a comfy bench to wait on, and in what felt like thirty minutes; our plane was called for boarding. Dad and I sat in the plane waiting for it to take it off.

Our first flight landed in Paris, and we caught a second plane to Kenya. I complained to Dad about all the flights. “Why are the seats so uncomfortable?” I groaned.  “You slept the whole time so you can’t complain.” My dad laughed. We made our way through immigration at the familiar airport, being in Kenya was bittersweet. I miss all my friends but I wish I could be back in Canada more. Dad and I got to the baggage carrousel. “Help me get the bags.” My dad said. Every year before this, my brother would help my dad get the bags and I sit and talk with my sister. This year, I got them by myself. 

Dad called a driver to pick us up. As we bumped down the road, I looked out the window at the familiar landscape. I sat silently, contemplating. I decided that no matter what, I’d make the most of this year.