Page 91 of Through Quick and Quinn
Hey Geoffrey,
Things are going so well with Dad. We’ve gotten to a comfortable place with each other, and I look forward to our nightly dinners. And to the arbitrary lessons, too. We chat with more ease and we even go beyond the small talk sometimes. Did you know that Dad believes giants once walked the earth and that much of the mountainous terrain we see is petrified giants? Ha! You know I’m going to dig on that one. One day. Probably not anytime soon. I’ve been busy driving, trying to cram in all the required hours so I can surprise Quinn over break. Dad’s even thinking of working from home full-time once Mom gets back, so he and I will be able to share his car. Pretty sweet deal. Anyway, Dad is going to visit mom tomorrow for the first time. We agreed that it’s best that he go alone, before I do. Just in case.
Learning all these “Dad lessons” is really making me think about my future. I need to figure out what I want to do next so I can set myself up to be a catch, you know? What girl out there would want a bum who can’t change the air filters? And what girl out there would want a bum with no direction in life? So Dad and I talked about some different options and I made a decision. I applied to the university in town and some of the local colleges. I don’t know exactly what I want to do, but that’s ok. Maybe once I start taking a couple of classes, I’ll feel a pull towards something. I just know that I want to stay nearby. I missed out on a lot of time with our folks and this thing with Mom has really got me thinking about our family. In a way, they went from having two kids to none, and I need to do what I can to make up for that. I’m not saying it’s entirely my fault that we’ve lost our way, especially since they’re the adults, but the blame game is stupid. We are all a part of the dynamic, so we all contributed to the dynamic. And now I need to do my part to mend it. Me skipping town and moving far away is simply not on the table. At least not yet.
I told Quinn my decision. Well, the part of the decision that I made, that I am staying in town. She was supportive, as always, and had kind things to say about me and my choice to prioritize my family. I guess there’s no more hiding from this thing with Mom. It’s time to face reality because it’s right around the corner.
I hope I can handle the news of Quinn’s decision as gracefully as she did mine. When I think of the possibility of her moving away, every system in my body seems to shut down. But I have to be happy for her no matter what. It doesn’t matter how far away she is. Our friendship will withstand it. It has to.
I guess first it has to withstand the news about my dig on SIDS. It will. She’s the most forgiving person I know. Maybe she’ll need some time but eventually she’ll forgive me, I hope. I’ll do whatever I need to do to make that happen.
Yes, Geoffrey. Because I love her. I’m convinced it’s the real deal.
Miss you,
Deck
Quinn:
A Wave
Quick and I had become so aligned with one another that our connection went well beyond the milestone of finishing each other’s sentences. The evening he told me about his decision to stay home the following year to attend a nearby school was the exact night that I myself committed to making a plan for my looming future. I had been putting off the inevitable, using the excuse of “waiting for a sign” to know what avenue to take, but once the arguments made their way to being between my parents, I knew I needed to take the next step.
Since that first fateful trip to the bookstore with my father and all along the journey that followed, I wanted to help heal others. I wasn’t interested in the medical field, per say, but rather in alternative methods of healing. So, I started the process with the accustomed practice of a simple internet search. As I read the seemingly endless pages that were chock full of career ideas, the enthusiasm within me started to bubble over. Each time I came across another possibility that excited me, I bounced a little higher, clapped a little harder, and exclaimed, “+ + +oh!” a little louder.
The list started to grow. What started out with acupuncturist and herbalist soon incorporated such prospects as energy healer, massage therapist, reiki practitioner, thermographer, yoga instructor, and dozens more. Before I knew it, I was organizing my findings into a chart of information. Running down the left side was the array of possible career choices, and along the top of the chart were such considerations as the number of years of schooling, the cost of schooling, the average salary, and the rating of my own interest. Plotting the information not only made the task feel less overwhelming but I felt that seeing the big picture would help me make the best decision for myself.
Hours sped by. The only sounds were those of my keyboard and my sudden gasps of excitement. Everything was flowing with such ease that I knew I was on the right track. I could feel the dread of the decision fading away into the darkness and being replaced by an eagerness that I could hardly contain. I had nothing but options. I was blessed with the privileged ability to get out into the world, to follow my passions, to decide what I want to study and practice, and to make my adult life happen through my own choices. Sure, there would be hiccups along the way, but nothing big enough to stop me. My childhood was nearing its end, and for the first time, I felt ready. I was even starting to welcome it.
I woke up the next morning and immediately grabbed my laptop from my nightstand to look at my chart. Pride consumed me, and I practically launched out of bed. I couldn’t wait to show my parents. I still had much to research and even more to consider, but I was headed in the right direction, making forward progress.
As I expected, my parents were thrilled. My mom started talking at a pace much too quick for even a savant to calculate, throwing out suggestions and questions at record speed. My dad squeezed my shoulder as he walked past me to grab a muffin from the counter, and then he walked over to her to shove it in her mouth. We burst out in synchronous laughter, and I threw my arms around each of them to thank them for their support, their patience, and their love.
That night at the dinner table, my parents asked about the next step in my process. They knew I had a method to my madness, and I was grateful that they respected my desire to figure things out in my own way. I told them that I wanted to research the career options I found. I needed to truly understand each one of them because, to me, the most important column on the chart was my level of interest. I wanted to spend my time doing something I loved, and I never wanted to feel the dread of having to go to work. Even at seventeen, I knew that was no way to live.
The research consumed me. I added columns to the chart with everything from typical working hours to whether or not there was an opportunity to be self-employed. Becoming self-employed started looking more and more attractive to me as I read about the flexibility, the earning potential, and the independence it provided. I filled pages upon pages of my notebook, and as I did, I remained as present as possible in the moment. I worked without distraction, allowing myself to hear the whispers of my intuition as I purposefully made my way towards my future.
Just as I suspected, the rows of the chart started to narrow down. Within a week’s time that included dozens of research hours, I went from seventeen possibilities down to a top ten. Then a highlighted seven. Then a boldfaced five. And before long, I had a top three.
My parents did an amazing job of showing interest but granting me space. They were sure to ask how it was going each night and the vicarious excitement on their faces meant so very much to me. I chose not to share my top choices with them, or the process of narrowing it down as I went, mostly because I wanted to make the decision based solely on my thoughts and considerations. I didn’t want the noise from others to influence my choice. Besides, I thought it would be much more fun to reveal the final decision without any hints along the way. As the choice became clearer, I became increasingly excited about telling them.
And to tell Quick.
But then I remembered that I had something else I needed to inform him of, too. And that piece always brought a wave of nausea mixed with panic. A wave that meditation and crystals did not seem to alleviate.
Quick:
Maybe, Just Maybe
The last day of the first semester seemed to take forever to reach. I wrestled with the motivation to even get out of bed that Friday morning, but I had to push through my final two exams before I could celebrate with Quinn that night. The minutes felt like hours, and I spent most of the school day looking at clocks and struggling to concentrate. Apparently Quinn was having a similar experience, since I received a series of texts from her throughout the day.
Six more hours!
Five hours and twenty-six minutes left!
Five hours and eleven minutes!
Four hours to go!
