The Long Ride Home

Here is a memoir I wrote a while back this year. I'd like to work on it. I'm not sure if it's okay to put something from earlier up; if not, I'll do another one :)

The heater is on full blast in our old GMC suburban as dad and I drive home from karate practice. Oldies quietly play on KOOL 108, the only station dad ever listens to, just loud enough to fill the heavy silence. The tight pull of the seatbelt feels especially smothering as I try to come up with the words I will use to tell him.


A week earlier I woke up to fresh piles snow on the ground, the sun shining, and the hope that perhaps just enough snow had fallen the night before to have school canceled for the day. I didn’t mind missing a day of fifth grade. My brothers Derrick and Dustin and I plopped ourselves down in front of the TV hoping to see “Amery Public School Canceled” flash across the screen. We were in luck that day; school was canceled!

It didn’t turn out to be as great as we had expected. Shortly after our breakfast of cheerios, my mom called us in from the living room where we were watching cartoons. She and my dad were sitting at the kitchen table, both with sad eyes, and my mom looked like she had just been crying.

“You guys know that I have been staying at Auntie Debbie’s a lot lately, right?” my mom asked us, tears running down her face. We nodded our heads, unsure of what was going on. My stomach started to tighten up, and I felt a lump forming in my throat. I could still hear the cartoons in the living room and wished I as in there. “Well, your dad and I have decided to separate.” She paused for what felt like ten minutes. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do or say. I wanted to throw up. My face and chest burned. The lump in my throat made it hard to breath. One tear escaped my control- all the others followed. I really had no idea what this meant; all I knew was that I was becoming one of those kids whose parents get divorced. I didn’t want to be that kid.

“You guys know things haven’t been very happy around here, and we’re gonna try and work things out, but until then, I’m moving out,” she told us in a cracked voice.

My dad didn’t say much; he just sat with his head down looking at his hands. Across the table, my younger brother Dustin’s tears were magnified by his thick glasses. Derrick, who was older than me, didn’t seem to have any reaction. Tipping back on two legs of his chair, he tapped his fingers on the table.

“Who are we gonna live with?” Derrick asked.

“Well, you guys get to choose,” she said.

My eyes burned and. The lump in my throat seemed to be suffocating me. It wasn’t fair.


The smell of exhast fills the truck on this cold night. The lump in my throat is there again, and I don’t know how I’m going to tell him. I’m glad it’s dark; he can’t see me crying. Snot is dripping from my nose because I’m afraid to sniffle; I don’t want him to know I’m crying.
“Dad?” I manage to get out, “I wish I didn’t have to decide.”

He sat patiently and quietly waiting for me to say what I needed to say. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, feel it pounding against my chest.

“Dad, I wanna live with you, but I think I’m gonna live..” I couldn’t say it. Nothing would come out. I just wanted to turn up the music and forget I ever had to do this and say this to my dad. I know it was going to make him hurt, and I didn’t want to do that.