Gavin wasn’t my first boyfriend, or my first kiss, but he was my first everything else. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone other than him.
I hope we turn out like my parents did. Yeah, I really hope for that.
* * *
After graduation, I spent the summer with my parents. And I didn’t waste a minute of that time with them because I knew it would be short. In the fall, I moved to college, and Mom and Dad—well, their plans were as big as mine. I think they did an awesome job raising me, but I knew that once I moved out on my own and started a life for myself with school and with Gavin, my parents would be setting off to fulfill a life dream of their own.
I’m so happy for them. I miss them every day, but I’m so happy.
They never forget to mail me letters—not e-mails, but real handwritten letters. I’ve saved them all, from the ones stamped in Argentina and Brazil and Costa Rica and Paraguay to the ones that came from Scotland, Ireland, Denmark, and places all over Europe. I love it that my parents are the way they are, so free-spirited and driven and in love with the World. I admire them. From the stories they tell me about when they were a little older than me, I realize that their lives, even before they met, started out rocky, but eventually everything fell into place. My mom told me about her past and how she used to be very depressed. She didn’t go into too much detail, and I could always tell that she was holding things back. But she wanted me to know that she and my dad would always be there for me, no matter what happens or what decisions I make.
I think she was worried I might make some of the same wrong decisions that she made when she went through some hard times, but honestly, I can’t imagine ever being unhappy.
Mom told me about when she met Dad, too. On a Greyhound bus, of all things. I just laughed. But whenever I think about them and about the things they went through together, I can’t help but be awed by it.
According to Mom, my dad was a little wild back then. She said the way he used to be is the number one reason why it took him so long to warm up to Gavin. She didn’t go into details about that, either, but… dang, my dad must’ve really been… Yuk! Never mind.
But I learned so much from my parents. They taught me how precious life is and never to take a second of it for granted, because any second could be my last. My dad was big on me being myself, standing up for what I believe in, and speaking my mind rather than someone else’s. He told me that people will try to make me just like them, but not to fall for it because before I know it, I will be. My mom, well, she was big on making sure I knew that there is so much more out there in the world than crappy jobs and paying bills and becoming a slave to society. She made sure I understood that no matter what anyone says, I don’t have to live in a way that I don’t choose. I pick my path. I make my life one to remember and not one that will fade into the background of every other uneventful life around me. Ultimately, it’s my choice and only my choice. It will be hard at times, I may have to flip burgers and scrub toilets for a while, I will lose people I love, and every day won’t be as bright as the one before it. But as long as I never let the struggles pull me completely under, one day I will be doing exactly what I want to do. And no matter what happens, or who I lose, I won’t be sad forever.
But what I think I learned the most from my parents is how to love. They love me unconditionally, of course, but I mean the way they love each other. I know a lot of married couples—most of my friends’ parents are still married—but I’ve never quite known two people more devoted to each other than my mom and dad. They’ve been inseparable all my life. I can only recall a couple of arguments between them, but I’ve never heard them fight. Ever. I don’t know what it is that makes their marriage so strong, but I sure hope that whatever it is, they passed some of that magic onto me.
Gavin walks into my dorm room, shutting the door behind him. He sits down on the edge of my bed. “Another letter from your folks?”
I nod.
“Where are they now?”
“Peru,” I say, looking back down into the letter. “They love it on that side of the world.”
I feel his hand on my knee to comfort me. “You’re worried about them.”
I nod again, gently. “Yeah, as always, but I worry about them more when they’re over there. Some places are really dangerous. I just don’t want them to end up like—”
Gavin reaches out and fits my chin in his fingertips. “They’ll be fine, you know they will.”
Maybe he’s right. My mom and dad have been backpacking across the world for two years now, and the worst danger they’ve encountered—by what they’ve told me, anyway—was that my dad was robbed once and another time they had an issue with their passports. But anything could happen, especially being alone like that with only backpacks and the open road.
Apparently, I’m a lot like my mom when it comes to how much I worry.
“Two more years and they’ll be just as worried about you,” he adds, and then pecks me on the lips.
“I guess so,” I say, smiling up at him as he stands from the bed. “My mom will probably be up every night wondering if I got mauled by a lion.”
Gavin smiles a crooked smile.
We decided six months ago that we really want to go to Africa after college. When we first met, it wasn’t so much an idea as it was something we brought up in casual conversation. But now, it has become our goal. At least for now. A lot can change in two years.
I fold the letter and place it back inside the discolored envelope and set it on my nightstand.