Stepping into my father's house was a nightmare. It was a place I have avoided for years. His three acres is covered with overgrown trees, bushes, and weeds. Other than mowing his yard, my dad hadn't done one thing to care for it since probably... 1998. The front door, which at one time was painted white, was a yellow/brownish color.
Upon arriving I had no idea how would I handle it. I was facing a fear that I thought I could always avoid.
After knocking on the door, I could see him through the glass slowly hobbling over to open it for me. He had knee surgery earlier that day and with no one else to look after him for a day or two I had to step up to the plate.
Walking through the entry hallway I was in shock. All I could do was breath; in and then out again. The antique mirror with my dad's childhood baseball hat hanging from it; the wooden ironing board displaying framed pictures from my childhood; the mantle decorated with fake flowers and two wooden ducks kissing; the antique kitchen cupboard filled with dish towels and utensils. These are the things my mom used to decorate the place 20 years ago. They were covered in dust and looked like they hadn't been touched in decades. Between all of this décor I remembered from my childhood were piles of messy paper, 4 small trashcans lined up in the dining room, balled up Christmas wrapping paper in the corner, cans and jars empty of their food contents covering the counters. Nothing in this house has been cleaned, organized, or thrown out in years.
I walked upstairs to put my things for the night in my sister's old bedroom. Passing my childhood bedroom and all I could do was whisper, "God, why am I here?" The lacy pink curtains, the white vanity table with the tri-fold mirror, the plastic jewelry box, the wooden desk, the girl dresses hanging in the closet; the little, silk pink box with a flap on top of the chest of drawers. It was too much to take in. My bedroom was exactly the way I left it. How was I going to make it through this night? My mind was working overtime to stay positive. I was hanging onto a string for dear life. Then I saw it. "Certificate of Greatness Over Certain People Awarded To: Sarah Bode on the 27th day of October in the year 1999. For: Her Superior test score in geometry." Signed at the bottom by the X "Mandy Nichols." It brought a smile to my face. It was a rainbow in a house covered with a mental disease that can't deal with moving out of the past. This is how I always made it in life. All the friends that I have made and kept through the years.
In the kitchen that evening I found a crate filled with things from my teen years. In it was a Winnie the Pooh box that I had used to keep pictures and notes from high school. Of course it was covered with dust and a little grime, but I went through it. All the notes from Sarah Gerrety that ended with "LYLAS" (love you like a sister.) A birthday card from Amanda Knox that read "your friend forever... and ever. ... and ever... and well you get the point." April Fink wrote in bold letters, "Beautiful Bode in Braces" the week my teeth were plastered with metal my sophomore year. Missy Sterwerf always made it note-worthy to "Don't Worry, Be Happy." Mandy Nichols always wrote the most detailed letters, usually complaining about a teacher or the bean bag toss she was in charge of at Greener's fair. Most of these letters were written during class at Mt. Healthy and started with how bored they were in history, English, Spanish, etc.
Although, that night at my dad's, I didn't feel like I was going to make it through the night with a sane mind, (I sat there on the couch and thought, "Ok, right now, am I losing my mind or is he?") I did have a box of proof. A box filled with proof that I have always had good, positive people in my life. I have the privilege to call these people "close friends of mine" today, 15 years after we started at Mt. Healthy High as Freshman. You can't put a price on a positive person in your life. You just can't.
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