On the road again...

There was a point when I was very little that I wanted to be old enough to walk to the bus stop on the corner all on my own. 

Most people my age (22) would be petrified that their parents still take them to the bus stop in the morning. But as the bus was taking me from Washington, DC to New York, NY, I suppose the feeling of embarrassment is unnecessary.

I admit as the bus took off, and I looked back at my father as long as I could before the bus turned the corner, I had tears in my eyes. Definitely the kind of tears that in the movies threaten to become a full-blown sobbing fit if unleashed.

Now, as the bus travels along, I can’t help but think of all the things that I might have left behind. I keep lifting a hand to my belly to feel the bulge my passport makes in the travel wallet under my shirt. My mental checklist has been checked and re-checked hundreds of times already, and I’ve only been out of my house for an hour.

I was lucky enough over the summer to be able to stay with my parents in the home I grew up in. Taking odd jobs helped me increase the amount of money in my bank account. This summer prepared me for the year ahead, and I would like to think that I am ready for any obstacles that might pop up. Given that relative peace of mind and heart is the outcome of a summer with my parents, I can honestly say that the pangs of embarrassment are weak and short-lived. 

Getting dropped of at the bus stop is not embarrassing; it is a gift from my parents.