A vacation with my mother

I had an interesting childhood: It was filled with surprise and amusements, all because of my mother-loving, sweet, and yet absent-minded and forgetful. One strange family trip we took when I was eleven tells a lot about her.

My two sets of grandparents lived in Colorado and North Dakota, and my parents decided to spend a few weeks driving to those states and seeing all the sights along the way. As the first day of our trip approached, David, my eight-year-old brother, and I unwillingly said good-bye to all of our friends. Who knew if we’d ever see them again? Finally,we packed suitcases, books, games, camping equipment, and a tent into the car and bravely drove off. We bravely drove off again two hours later after we’d returned home to get the purse and traveler’s checks Mom had forgotten.

David and I were always a little nervous when using gas station bathrooms if Mom was driving while Dad slept: “You stand outside the door and play lookout while I go, and I’ll stand outside the door and play lookout while you go.” We were never actually left behind in a strange city, but we weren’t about to take any chances.

On the fourth or fifth night, we had trouble finding a hotel with a room available. After driving in vain for some time, Mom suddenly got a great idea: Why didn’t we find a house with a likely-looking backyard and ask if we could set up tent there? David and I became nervous. To our great relief, Dad turned down the idea. Mom never could understand our objections. She thinks everyone in the world as as nice as she is. We finally found a vacancy (空房) in the next town.

Para1: The next day we really couldn’t find a hotel with a vacancy and remembered the brand-new tent we had brought with us.

I woke up earlier than my brother as every other day of the week. I jumped out of the bed, got dressed, brushed my teeth, and had breakfast. Saying good bye to my mother, I got in the car no later than 7:05. I got to school on time, even though my brother came out of the house late as he used to.

It was a Thursday. I was walking to the chemistry rooms when my phone in my left pocket vibrated(震动). I took it out and looked at the shiny screen. As soon as I saw my father’s name on that screen I realized something was not right.

He would not call me in the middle of a school day just to talk. He would want me to focus in school and do well. I answered the phone, and my father sounded worried. He told me to find my brother as soon as possible, walk with him to the school picking-up zone and get in the car with my brother. Our driver would take us back home where my father was.

When I was in the car with my brother my dad called the driver and told him to take us to the hospital. We were going to meet him and my mum there. As soon as my brother and I found about the change in plans, we looked at each other in the eyes. I immediately noticed the fear in brother’s eyes.

To be honest, I was really scared too, probably more than he was. But I did not say anything. We arrived at the hospital. I saw my dad on the phone waiting for us at the entrance. He was smoking. Seeing my dad smoking made me more worried. I had never seen him smoke before. He hated it. As soon as he recognized the white car, he threw the cigarette away. I looked at my brother; he was looking out of the other window. I did not tell him what I just saw. I did not want him to worry.

The car stopped right in front of my dad.

We walked down the hall with our eyes closed.

As I stepped out of the cat and onto the unfamiliar driveway of my father’s home in Ontario, Canada. I couldn’t help but feel upset. My mother had just passed away in a car accident and now I was being forced to live with a father I barely knew.

My father was a metal sculpture artist, and I was not sure if I would ever fit into his world. Soon, I found comfort in exploring the nearby wilderness. Yet I couldn’t ignore the sadness and anger that welled up inside me when I saw a construction crew destroying a small wilderness area nearby. That’s when I came across a nest of geese eggs, abandoned and fragile.   

Without hesitation, I brought them home. When the first crack appeared and a tiny head poked through, my heart swelled with purpose and affection. As they grew, the baby geese followed me everywhere. Father smiled and remarked that they surely thought me their mother.     

My geese grew steadily but time was not. Father realized without a real mother’s guidance, the geese would never learn how to migrate south for the winter and winter’s arrival could be tough. That’s when my father came up with a daring plan. He was an amateur pilot, and he would teach me how to fly an aircraft. Together, we would lead the geese on their migratory journey. It was a risky plan, but I was willing to do anything to help my feathered friends.

Each day of flight training with Father, I felt myself gaining confidence m the skies. Yet with the journey approaching, more and more fear filled me. Crossing the border into the US and flying hundreds of miles to the reservation in North Carolina seemed a mission impossible.

Father gave me a supportive smile, his face reflecting a mix of determination and concern. “We’ve trained for this, and we’re a team. Just like you and your geese,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Flying south, we started the migration, followed by my geese.

I said goodbye to Father in the hospital and continued the flight.