I slept in a little this morning and a thought occurred to me that has occurred to me before but I didn't give it much attention. When I was in the beginning of tenth grade or even perhaps the summer before tenth grade, my mom left me and my dad and took my two sisters to another state. I remember being told she was going over there to go to a different doctor. There is a great deal of tragedy that has followed her decision that she never could have predicted. A seriously sad chain of events critical to my future and the future of the family.
I kind of suppose up to this point in my life--what was I 15 or 16--I didn't do much caring what was going on around me. I was just living my life. So when the other shoe dropped I didn't give that much mind either.
I was given a choice. Leave my friends, my school, my home and go with them or stay with my dad and live my mom's friends during the week and live at home on the weekends. Now I know at the time I was in the tenth grade. I was playing in a big band and felt very much a part of the group. I'd been first chair all through middle school and the first two years of High School. I had some friends in the band and my best friend at the time was my locker mate for the last two years. These are the things that are important to a tenth grader with little else.
What I had at home was strife. My older sister was a little bit of a bully, and my younger sister had been a sickly child, so she inherently got the lion's share of attention. I didn't know my dad as much as I should have at 16. I wanted to stay behind. Things here might not have been the greatest, but at least I had stability.
So, that day my mother, two sisters and the family dog packed up the station wagon and left. I don't remember feeling much of anything about their leaving. That bothers me a little. What bothers me more is what happened to all of us that year or so and the butterfly effect that followed one woman's decision.
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