I decided to take a break from writing thank you notes to acknowledge a significant day. Lately it seems like the days are just slipping away – a nightmare for a procrastinator like me. I was hoping to enjoy my last few weeks with send off parties and quality hang out time, but each day will be consumed by some “responsible and productive” task on my to-do list. So as busyness consumes my time, I find myself frustrated that the world doesn’t stop to acknowledge a significant day.
Yesterday would have been my brother’s 30th birthday. He died May 15th, 2011 in the wee hours of the morning in a car accident. It’s tough to think he will not be celebrating any more birthdays and even more difficult to acknowledge that he won’t be around to celebrate any more significant days in the future. But I didn’t want to post anything depressing, I thought it would be fitting to celebrate his birthday with a story. This is one of my favorite memories with Corey. Here goes . . .
My family moved to Sumter, South Carolina my freshman year of high school. Corey was two years older, so he was beginning his junior year, the meaty part of most people’s high school career. Sumter was a small town and, at this point, most high schoolers had been going to school with the same people for many years and cliques were well established. We were instant outsiders, no problem. We were military kids, we would adapt. So, for the better part of a year,Corey and I hung out together exclusively. We made a few class friends, but nothing serious enough to merit a sleepover or staying out past curfew.
One fall day, Corey and I could not get it together before school. We were late getting up. We rushed in and out of the shower. Dragged on some clothes, threw our bags over our shoulders and dragged the recycling bin to the curb . . . just in time to see the school bus fly by. Dang it! Now what? Most people find a friend to call or call a taxi and make their way to school. Not us. I promise it took all of 30 seconds for us to go from, “How are we going to get to school?” to “Is there bacon? We should make some breakfast.” Now, fully committed to breakfast and a day at home, Corey and I began what would be a long morning of video games and relaxing.
Around 12:45, Corey heard a car pull up in the drive way. It was Mom. We panicked. Chaos. We ran around quickly hiding all the evidence of our truancy. Finally, we ran to the back of the house and met in the hall, both trying to figure out what to do next. Without words we both disappeared to our rooms to fend for ourselves. I darted around my room for a couple seconds finally deciding to hide in the bottom of my closet under a mound of blankets that I’m sure Mom asked me to put away many times. As I settled into my (pretty bad) hiding spot, I felt the wall move as Corey slumped into the bottom of his closet which shared a wall with mine, both of us now frozen back-to-back under a mound of blankets.
It was hot. I was sitting on several pairs of shoes, and my leg was starting to cramp up, but I did not move. We both could hear Mom walking up and down the hall, so we settled into our personal closet hells. I’m not sure how long we stayed there. I know I wasn’t planning on moving until I was sure she was gone. Most people’s lunch breaks are an hour long, so subtract 10 minutes for travel time, so we had a eternity to sit and think about what we were doing.
Anyway, to wrap this story up quickly, we crawled out of hiding (sweating) and laughed briefly about the situation. We tried to go back to our leisurely activities, but the day was stained. We just piddled around the house until Mom got home.
She found out almost immediately. We settled down to have dinner when the phone rang. Most days, when the phone rings at dinner we just ignore it, but for some reason Corey answered it. It was one of his TWO class friends. What are the chances!? The other voice proceed to ask about his day and why he wasn’t at school. My mom overheard Matt asking where Corey had been all day and soon after Corey hung up, the interrogation began. We didn’t put up much of a fight. We had no contingency plan or alibi. Mom showed little mercy and we deserved every bit of punishment we got.
But looking back, all I can do is smile.
