Catch the Wind: My Journey with Caroline

My favorite season, summer, is off to a good start. Dad’s making chocolate-chip pancakes. And Mom says swimming lessons are off the table for me this year, which is fine by me, since I’ve never liked swimming anyway.

Then my twin sisters, Britney and Sasha, haul in the photo album from last summer’s camping trip, the one I helped them put together. I don’t want to look at it, not now. There’s no camping trip this year, not with Mom having just joined the U.S. Navy and about to leave on her ship for eight months.

It falls open to a picture from the morning after a thunderstorm, when none of us had slept and mud covered everything, though once the sun came out we couldn’t stop laughing. Mom and Dad are both smiling in the shot, and Dad still calls that whole trip quite an adventure.

Flipping another page, Britney pushes the album across the table. Mom reminds her to keep the maple syrup off it, then turns to ask me to load the dishwasher.

Instead, weeks of hidden sadness and worry come pouring out of me, and I shout that I don’t want to. The twins’ eyes go wide, and Mom’s narrow the way they do when she’s upset with me. But I don’t stop. I add that I don’t want her to leave, and that I wish she’d never joined the navy at all.

Dad snaps that I owe Mom an apology, right now, and my throat tightens as tears spring up. Now he’s angry with me, too.

I bolt outside, slamming the door behind me, and cut across the lawn and down the path through the woods to the pond. It’s my favorite quiet, shady spot. Dropping onto the grassy bank, I bury my face in my arms and cry harder than I have since I was as small as the twins.

Only more anger stirs up when I think about them. Mom hasn’t told either twin they need extra chores while she’s gone, and Dad hasn’t told them they need to be extra brave. Being the oldest is starting to feel like a raw deal.