Fall Out Girl (26 page)

Dad moved in the room and focused the camera on his face. “First, happy birthday.” His face beamed with a broad smile. “Look at you, all grown up and so mature at the tender age of eighteen. Oh, sweetheart, I hope you’re having the time of your life. We’re only young once.”

He pointed the camera back at a sleeping me. From the point of view, I knew he was sitting on my gigantic beanbag. Laska left my bed and with a wiggling tail, pranced toward Dad.

“I wanted to show you my favorite thing in the world. You. Did you know I watch you sleep almost every night? I do, corny and cheesy, I know. But looking at you is soothing, invigorating.” He turned the lens back to his face. His voice was jovial, casual, and a small smile danced on his lips, but I noticed the worry clouding his eyes.

He ran his hand over his face and continued. “Oh, I have so many unanswered questions, but based on what I know of you, I’ll take the liberty of assuming certain things, for example, your career choice. I do believe you’re on your way to Vet School. The animal kingdom will be very lucky to have you as a doctor.”

He continued to speak with candor. He spoke of his fears, and his dreams, of his hopes, and his plans. He spoke so much, yet not enough. And I dreaded the end of the prelude from the present.

“I wonder if you have given away your heart or are holding out for someone special. If you did, I would hope the fortunate boy is worthy of such a treasure. I would hate to have to haunt some stranger for breaking your heart.

“Anyway, how are you? Did you go to prom? Were you part of the Science Club? Did you get your license yet? Are you a volunteer? Are you still taking karate? Are you still passionate about the Yankees? Please say yah for this one, I couldn’t cope with you not liking my good old team. Did you continue to play softball? How many friends do you have? Are they nice? Are they into drugs? Is life treating you good, my darling?

“I know I’m babbling and no matter how much I ask, I’ll never be able to ask all the questions reeling through my mind as I ponder on the next years of your life. It is my hope that wherever I go, I have access to you.

“Oh, and how is Laska? She must be old and gray by now. If she’s still around, give her my love. Did you find out who I named her after? I hope society hasn’t corrupted you and enticed you to look it up on that Internet thingy called Google. If you still don’t know, good luck, kid. Just because I’m at death’s door doesn’t mean that I’ll reveal the name of the book to you. Keep on reading, kid. The day you find out, celebrate as if I were there, will yah?

“Oh, Little Moon, it pains me to leave you behind. I hope Lace honors her word and takes care of you. She’s wild, that one. But she was the only one person I had. Please forgive my lack of planning. Everything is just moving so fast, and your aunt is the best chance we have to keep you out of the system.

“But despite all the battles you will face, I have faith in you, dear. I know the essence of who you are, and it’s awe worthy. I’m proud of who you’ve become. But that leads me to a question. Are you proud of who you are and the choices you’ve been making?

“I know you’re eighteen and are rolling your eyes. Self-evaluation is highly disregarded at your age, but given the circumstances I have to ask you to look at yourself and answer with honesty. Do you love yourself? Are you happy with the path stretching before you? There is wisdom in questioning your decisions, learning from your mistakes.

“I have lived a fulfilling life. I am left with one regret: Not being there to guide you through these crucial years. Hence, I’m doing this silly video journal. I want to give you some pointers for life. Things we would have talked about over breakfast, or sitting in traffic, or after a movie, or while feeding the birds. But if you are watching this now, we had none of that. So, here are my last words for you, darling. It’s a ‘to do’ list. And no, it is not optional. I’m using the father card on this one. It’s an order.

“So here it is:

Be loyal.

When depressed, make a mental list of what you are grateful for. It’s impossible to feel grateful and depressed at the same time.

Kiss slowly. FYI, this is hard for a father to say.

Forgive quickly.

Take chances.

Live in such way that you have no regrets in the end.

Get a library card.

Do what you say you’ll do.

Be comfortable with your identity.

Learn something from everyone.

Learn a new language.

For crying out loud, are you eating enough protein?

Smile often.

Avoid gossip at all costs.

Remember to see beyond someone’s skin color. All blood types are red.

Dance in the rain.

Watch the sunrise.

It’s okay to not know it all. But remain curious.

Do the things that scare you.

Go to bed early, get up early. That’s one of the habits shared by successful people.

Feed birds, especially in winter.

Climb trees.

Plant a tree.

Get a passport. Use it.

Repeat people’s name when you meet them. Trust me on this one. It’ll go a long way.

Get a tattoo. If it’s what you want.

Pray.

Be a good listener.

Carpe diem.

Apologize.

Be humble, but brave.

Go to Iceland. Okay, I admit, this one’s more for myself, so you don’t really need to do it. But if you do, think of me, please.

Make a bucket list. Do what you write on it.

Above all, please remember: Every day is a gift, even when it sucks. Don’t let it go to waste.” He inhaled deeply.

“So that’s pretty much it, my Little Moon. It might not be the most enlightening list in the universe, but remember to practice these things. It will make your life fuller and more meaningful.

“There is no deadline to do them, so there is no rush. It’s a lifetime commitment.

“Remember that life is like climbing a mountain. The goal is to get to the top. However, what is relevant is the journey to get there. It will involve courage, tears, sweat, pain, effort, and perseverance. Be faithful to who you are, and always revisit your values. They are your core.

“Be honest with others, but mostly to yourself. The rest, my darling, will fall in place. I promise.

“Sorry, I couldn’t stay, kiddo. But I know you’ll thrive. I’m confident of the values I imparted to you.

“Lastly, I want to let you in on a secret: You’re special. You wanna know why? Because you are the only you who exists in the entire universe. Amazing, right? But a true story.

“I love you beyond the scope of words. I love you to the moon and back, an infinite amount of times.

“Take care, my Little Luna.”

Silence replaced Dad’s voice. The screen turned blue, then gray. I hugged the envelope as one embraces a loved one. Happiness, massive as a deluge of Biblical proportions, flooded me.

At first I had lost everything: my house, Jake, pictures, clothes, my blue birdhouse, my dreams, and Caleb. All I had left were heaps of ashes and a pocket full of painful memories. Until now. Now, I had money for school and a future. But most importantly, I had Dad again. The recording was a new keepsake for me to treasure. And with it, Dad reinvigorated me with a plan and vision.

THE FOLLOWING DAY I woke up before the sun and put the first check mark on the list I had created, based on Dad’s to-do list. I watched the sunrise, and I soaked up the peace it gave.

Then, I hopped in my car, rolled down the windows, and headed west. Destination: California.

From a used bookstore, I bought classic novels from the nineteenth century, piled them on the back seat, and resumed my quest for the name Laska. Dad and I had an unfinished game.

Though those were some of the saddest and loneliest days of my life, I also felt grounded and secure. Loved and treasured. A multitude of emotions tumbled inside my chest.

Dad knew the effect his video would have on my soul. He knew I would be lost and stumbling through life. He foresaw my need for a guiding hand. That alone overwhelmed. But the reassurance of his faith in me made the old me resurface and blend with the newer facets.

With eyes wide open, I could see my inner being. I could perfectly see my scars and dents.

Most importantly, I could see my qualities and flaws, strengths and weakness. I reconciled the two halves. I didn’t have to be one perfect half or one damaged half. I could be a whole perfectly damaged me. The only
me
in the universe. The
me
who wore her stripes proudly. Because the aim wasn’t perfection, but purpose.

I drove through valleys and mountains, through small towns and big cities, through green pastures, and burnished red deserts, through busy streets, and forlorn roads.

I gazed at the stars and marveled at the moon. I stopped when I wanted. I ate when hungry. I read when bored. I slept when tired.

I felt the warmth of the sun with a new awareness and appreciation. I felt the breeze on my face like a divine gift. I cried when I thought of Jake, and wept when I remembered Caleb. However, I smiled when I thought of Dad. And I beamed when I thought of myself and the future stretching before me like the miles of black asphalt I drove on.

During those months, I watched Dad’s video three thousand times. Each time, the same aftermath rehabilitated me. It strengthened the renewed view of myself. Most importantly, I solidified my view of the world. I looked at the world through the eyes of a newborn, full of wonder and awe.

With a lighter heart, I reached the Pacific. I stood in front of the vast ocean with my face lifted to the sky, arms wide open, and hands stretched upward. I had gone from coast to coast. It marked the end of one era and the beginning of another.

I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge wearing flowers in my hair and the sound of Scott McKenzie blasting from the radio. I bade farewell to The Golden State and carried with me a pungent sense of true “Eureka.” I had found a pot of gold inside my being.

Colorado bound, I turned back east and left California. I drove while eating tons of greasy fries, drinking gallons of sweet tea and listening to my favorite songs. Life was too short to listen to bad music.
Dust in the Wind
always wound up on repeat.

Naturally, drinking all the tea in china, lead me to gazillions of stops, where I would proceed to squat ungracefully behind some bush. Not the most dignified part of my adventure.

In Utah, I pulled over on the shoulder of the freeway and sat on the hood of my car. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the foreign, but aromatic, smell of the wind mingled with dust and sage. The asphalt of the highway was a black slit on the landscape and both sides contained mountains, valleys, arid deserts, and distant canyons. The warm breeze ruffled my hair and whispered softly over my skin. The sun gracefully and magnificently dipped behind red sandstones, bestowing a mesmerizing sunset upon me.

I remained on the top of the car and watched the twilight as the light shifted into darkness. Not a person in sight. Under normal circumstances, I would be scared, terrified even. But the solitude, the darkness, the vast space, the silence hypnotized me in a way that left no room in me for reasoning.

Typically I saw myself as big, bold, important—the center of the universe. But the desert, so big and intimidating, made me feel small. But that vast desert was just a tiny patch of planet Earth.

Then, I watched the stars making their appearance in the sky. One by one, they shone. At first, with a shy and soft twinkle, but then bursting onto vast constellations. Far, mysterious, alluring. Then, earth seemed small; the Milky Way seemed small. Our galaxy became just a smudge of strewn planets within the superclusters of galaxies. The astrologists call it “the visible universe,” which essentially is the cosmos. To me, it was just an unfathomable mystery.

All the brain twisters, thoughts, and observations got me nowhere but to a humbling conclusion: Try as we may, there were forces in our universe that were untouchable, unattainable, and undefinable. However, it came full circle right back at me from the center of this entire mammoth world. I was given a place, a voice, a breath. It had to mean something.

Overwhelmed, I broke into a fit of sobs. I understood the magnitude of my meager existence. Some may call it an epiphany of sorts. But I knew it was more than that. It was a connection between creation and Creator.

So, in between tears and sobs, I did what I hadn’t done in so long. I prayed. I begged for forgiveness of past and future sins. And felt as if the salty water my body expelled via tear ducts was the pus that had poisoned my soul.

Serenity descended upon my body, and I floated through the desert, through the moon and stars, through throngs of galaxies, through the unknown...and back.

An animal’s cry jolted me out of my sleep. I sat up on the hood of the car. Darkness surrounded me, but I had never had such a clear vision of where I was headed. I slid inside the car and sped away, continuing my journey.