was aware of the gravity of my decision. “We don’t want you to go! You was the baby!” She did often think of me as a baby, which is why she often spoke to me with that kind of broken grammar. I knew it was out of affection, but at this moment it was very annoying to me. I wanted to be thought of as an adult, or at least as a reasonable, cohesively thinking human being.
I knew they thought I had made the decision on a whim,
especially after Donna began mentioning the Garth Brooks special, which further confirmed it for me. “I think that it was what they said in the Christmas special last night. Was it what Garth Brooks said, about spending time with your family, that made you want to go?” “No,” I snapped, “it wasn’t that. I had already been thinking about it for a while.” I knew at this point I was getting more upset than I should have, so I decided to drop the subject and begin one that was a little less frustrating. I had said what I meant to say, though, and as upset and indignant as I was I was also relieved that at least they knew how I felt. As long as they didn’t think that I didn’t love them, or worse, that I was betraying them, I’d get over my momentary huff and be okay. My father didn’t say anything. He reserved his comments for the weeks and months to follow, not allowing me to leave so soon but still holding me to my word and working to make sure that I had really meant it. And I held to it. I had meant it, and I meant for them to see this. I was still tortured with the knowledge that I’d leave them behind, my new family that I had shared and learned so much with, the friends I had come to hold close to my heart, the hopes and plans I had for the future I thought would be there in South Carolina. But I was sure this was what I wanted. I was now old enough to realize what a pivotal decision it would be for me to leave and start over somewhere