Last Day on Delaney Street

TW: Broken Heart

Michael ponders life sitting on Rachel's Bed
This is the last day of Michael’s life in his childhood home, and his heart is broken as he surveys his sisters’ room one last time

I got myself ready for the day, and was really hating the time difference because I wanted to see both of my siblings, and wished everyone was here to help us move out. Breakfast was a boring affair, as even the dogs were no longer in the house: they were moved to the condo that I was moving to with mom while we figured out our next step in this thing called being an adult. I ran the dishwasher one last time. A tear rolled down my cheek as I got up. Today was going to be the last day living at my childhood home, and I wanted one last look around. I pushed open the door that lead to the room that belonged to my two sisters, and all the memories of our childhood came flooding back. All of both the good and the bad memories.

I sat on the lower bunk, Rachel’s old bed, and cried softly. Between my two sisters, I missed Rachel the most because of how she was forced to leave during the parental divorce, compared to Jessica’s depature being planned well in advanced with her going off to college. I cried in my sisters’ room because I missed them so much. Everything was a haze for me, as all the old childhood dreams came flooding back. I went into the closet and saw the toybox from our childhood collecting dust. I opened it, and saw the collection of toys for little boys (me) and little girls (Jessica & Rachel) and I let out a howl of a wail. I no longer cared that boys shouldn’t play with girl toys. I suddenly wanted to play dolls and ponies with my two sisters, and I wanted to include the boy dolls in their girl doll house!

I could not help it, as I set up the dolls like a little family in Jessica’s old doll house. I found one of the boy dolls and two girl dolls and set them up as a little family, representing myself and both of my sisters. I found a disposable camera and took a few pictures. I wanted one last memory of the house before it was time to pack up and leave.

I had to tear myself away from the doll house, because I just could not stop crying as all of the memories continued to process in my mind. I went into the bathroom to try to wash up, and clear the tears. I felt like no one would understand why I was upset, but I did not care: I just wanted my two favorite women at my side. Growing up sucked and I no longer wanted to be an adult.

I got in the car, and prepared to make the trip to Norfolk, and hoped that petting dogs would help me — though it would not be anywhere near the same as hugging female siblings. The ride into Norfolk was uneventful, as it usually was, other than I was trying to hold back the tears of missing my family.