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The Purple Box (Ch. 1)

Chapter 1—Leaving home

By Eric WheelerPublished 5 years ago 5 min read
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Original artwork by Eric Wheeler. EW Creative LLC

I got up early the morning of August 2nd, 2014. Far earlier than normal. I immediately got out of bed and got dressed. I felt the need to grab my camera and take pictures of the inside and outside of the house before I set off for my new life in Indiana. I found myself documenting every nook and cranny of the house, as it was on the day I would leave. Inside every room, every hallway, out in the garage, and then every angle of the exterior and yard outside.

I went across the street and down to the lakefront that now belongs to the DeRue’s. Thankfully the weather was absolutely beautiful. A perfectly sunny August morning. I even made a video of the lake to preserve the sounds of the waves lapping against the shore. Unless you grew up on a lake or river I guess that sound doesn’t mean much to you, but to me and everyone in my family it certainly means an awful lot. Wherever we go we are always “lakers” at heart.

I couldn’t exactly tell you why I felt compelled to do this. I had left home before with no intentions of coming back. But I guess this time felt different. Maybe it was to crystalize the images in my head so I could more deeply remember this day when I inevitably looked back on it in the future. Whatever the reason was while doing it, I found myself holding back my emotions. I knew I had to keep it together because mom was going to be a wreck with me leaving.

I felt those pangs of memory at every corner. Seeing the shadows in my head of every experience I had ever had in every place. I guess that is only common when you've spent 25 years in one place and family history going back an additional 60+ years. That’s a lot of time to go over in your head. A lot of memories to relive. I guess it is in my nature to do that.

Mom and Dad made breakfast for everyone, which consisted of a full spread of scrambled eggs, bacon, French toast, fresh strawberries, orange juice, toast, English muffins, milk, and hot chocolate. It’s the same big breakfast dad does every Christmas and New Year’s, kind of a Wheeler family tradition that I look forward to each holiday season. After breakfast, Mom and Tammy took pictures of everyone out in the driveway and the last few items were packed into my car. I hugged everyone real tight, said my goodbyes. Mom was the last one to hug me. She held me tight and I could feel her sobbing into my shoulder. I am not ashamed to admit I cried too. I am the last baby to leave the nest for good. I know it was hard for her. Finally, she let go and I got in my car and pulled out of the driveway of 2302 Lower Lake Rd. Seneca Falls, New York for the last time.

I had to get gas before I fully left so I stopped at the Nice n’ Easy gas station next to the Chrysler car dealership in town to fill up before I set off on to the New York State Thruway/Interstate 90 and headed West. As I was pulling away from the pump, I saw my dad in his grey 1991 Dodge pickup truck pull in and stop right behind me on the side of the parking area. I put my car in park and rolled down the window as he walked up to my car. I said to him “I saw you coming in so I stopped. Did I forget something back at the house?”

Through a choked up and teary voice my father said, “No, you didn’t forget anything. I just remembered when I left home dad stopped me one last time at the gas station to say good-bye and good luck.” His voice cracked with emotion as he reached through the window to put his arm on my shoulder and I put my hand on top of his. “Good luck, Bub,” he said “And drive safe. I love you.”

I replied “I will, and I love you too, dad.” The emotion creeping into my voice as well. WE finally parted and he got back into his truck. I pulled out of the gas station, giving him the “good-bye” horn beep, as he did to me also, and then I drove off to exit 41 by the Petro truck stop and headed West to South Bend, Indiana and my new life.

August 2nd, 2014 9:30 PM. I finally sat down on the bed of the apartment in South Bend, Indiana. I had arrived about three hours earlier and met my roommate Zack Morehouse (ironic, I know). He helped me unload my car, get settled in, and he graciously took me out to dinner to a really great sushi restaurant called the Hibachi Grill. After an eight hour drive in a car with no cruise control or air conditioning, I was hot, tired, and hungry, so I was grateful for his generosity.

The trip itself was pretty uneventful. It was pretty much just a straight shot on Interstate 90 West the whole way. The only tension was knowing in my head that each mile and each minute brought me closer to her. Closer to this beautiful creature that I would do anything for.

I was finally here. Finally going to be with the love of my life. A girl I have waited for three years to meet in person. Whom I have tried so hard for and loved so hard, I didn’t even think I had the capacity to do it. But it felt right. It felt real. I texted her that I had made it safe and I was here, and that I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around her. I was so excited I could barely contain myself. I had to wait a few days for her to come North before her semester started, and that gave me some time to get myself set up and learn the area a bit. But as far as I was concerned, everything was finally going in the right direction.

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About the Creator

Eric Wheeler

My name is Eric Wheeler. I am a graphic/web designer, photographer, videographer, poet and author. I am a classic car/truck/tractor/boat lover, fitness nut and survival expert. I write about my passions and love to share them with others.

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