Page 3 of Lost in the Current of You

We took hold of each other’s hands while we pushed through the crowd. Nerves bubbled inside me as I wondered if I would find my mother in the search, hoping she had it in herself to attend and see me graduate.

Since I was seven, she was hardly a part of my life, but I still yearned for her attention and presence. It started just before my parent’s divorce when she favoured her job over her children. She skipped birthdays and any other holiday. I liked to pretend it didn’t affect me, but I missed having a mother who I could ask for advice or a shoulder to lean on.

It was part of the reason my parents divorced. Dad would be doing everything for us while Mum would be holed up at work. They fought a lot about her absence from us before it finally led to divorce. But it only limited her presence even more. We were forced to spend every second weekend in an empty house with broken promises of dinners or lunches. When I had the choice at sixteen, I stopped visiting her to avoid those empty promises and spending my weekends alone there.

But I still held hope that she would reach out and ask if I wanted to spend time with her. Every time she would call me, I would try to arrange something, but every time I would be disappointed with another ‘Maybe another time’ or ‘I’m too busy right now, Dakota’. The one time we did organise a lunch together, she ended up not showing, claiming to have forgotten.

I should have known I would be disappointed yet again when I spotted my family through the crowd. By the look on my brother's face – like a mirror image as he stood next to Dad – I knew that no matter how much I searched, I wouldn’t find her there. I was still so naive to think she would realign her priorities to watch me graduate.

My brother, Nate, told me as I reached him, "I'm sorry, Dakota, I just got off the phone with her. She had an important meeting. Some crisis needed attention."

I felt stupid. All I wanted was for my mother to pay attention to me, to share my accomplishments with her, and to have her look at me and be proud of all the things I had achieved.

But looking over at my dad, you would think I didn’t need her support with the way he supported me. He cheered me on from the sidelines and never faltered when I asked for advice or told him something embarrassing. He was always there for me and was the solid shoulder I could cry and lean on.

His arms cocooned me in his comforting, warm embrace as my disappointment dwindled. "Look at you, finally a high school graduate.”

His smile was so infectious. You could never not smile when my dad did. It was bright – unrelenting. It was the balm that soothed the reopened wound of being reminded I wasn’t anywhere near the top of my mother’s priorities. It was all I needed. He had always been my rock. He taught me all I know.

"I'm proud of you, chook. I hope you know that," he assured as he squeezed my shoulder.

I hugged my brother next. We never really hugged very often. We showed affection through a smile or a thumbs up here and there, but I felt a hug was needed — what I needed. He traveled from Noosa to see me graduate and for my birthday in a couple of weeks. I would never say it to his face, but I appreciated that. I loved him for it.

In the heat of the summer air newly graduated, I knew that the people standing with me were all I needed in my life. I wasn't sure what was ahead of me, but I knew for sure that I could face it with them by my side.

"Sunscreen?"

"Yep."

"Hat?"

"Yes."

"Phone charger?"

"Yes, Dad. Stop worrying. If I forgot anything, I'll just buy it."

He sighed as he stood on the other side of the counter in the kitchen, holding his coffee cup to his lips as he took a sip. He watched on as I lugged my suitcase to sit by the front door, ready to leave as soon as I had breakfast. Anxiety swirled in his eyes over the brim of his coffee cup and I waited for him to continue as I made my own cup of coffee, hoping it would shake me out of the drowsy and queasy feeling I had after my night out celebrating.

“I can’t help but worry, chook. I’m your father. I’m meant to worry, especially when you’re going to be thousands of kilometres away for a week. The house will be too quiet without you,” he said.

Spending the week in Airlie Beach was like an impulse buy for us three to celebrate our completion of schooling away from home. A way for us to leave our stresses behind, let go, and have fun. As if we hadn’t been doing the same for the past week leading up to graduation. A pre-celebration, if you will. Dad was almost reluctant to let me go.

Originally, we had decided to skip it because they were usually not as tame as they were meant to be. It can get very rowdy and out of control quickly when you put a bunch of hormonal teenagers in the same place with the influence of underage drinking and adrenaline. But I had always wanted to go to Airlie Beach to walk across the famous white sand of Whitehaven Beach and meander my way through the street markets. The main reason, however, was the cause of my phone buzzing all morning with texts upon texts. It was more communication than I had ever received in the past month or even year from my mother. All of which I have ignored, not in the mood for one of her lectures.

I flipped my phone over and switched it to silent as I focused back on Dad.

“You’ll have Nate around so it won’t be that quiet. He makes more noise than I do.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but I’ll still miss you.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s only a week, Dad. Calm down. It’s not forever.”

His lips twitched up into an amused grin as he came around the island bench towards me before wrapping his arm around the top of my head, messing the top of my hair. I squeaked before mumbling a drawn-out Dad under my breath.

He pressed a kiss to my hair before whispering, “Have I told you how proud I am of you lately?”

I chuckled. “Many times now.”

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