After this week (and it’s not even over yet), I decided I want to run away from home. Have you thought about it…I was thinking back to when I was a kid. I’d be like, “Oh I could do this. I can take care of myself! I don’t need this house and rules!” Did you actually run away? I did twice…

You know how it is. I go away on vacation, even though it was a working vacation, I feel like I’m being punished for being back. The guys are slipping back into bad habits. I’m not writing. Work has been…well…work. Reality of the ruts in my life hit me square in the face. Mundane, frustrating, and boring all come to mind. The thought flits through my mind “…run away…run away to the mountains…create something new and beautiful without the clutter, to-dos, and pain.” What if I just left and started over? a sweet fantasy fer sure! Okay, back to the ties that bind us to our lives.

The first time I ran away to the woods. I must have been about seven? maybe eight? It was a Saturday and Mom made me follow the rules for Saturday cleaning which included my sister and I cleaning the dreaded ROOM. After finishing the ROOM and eating lunch (of course I had to wait till after lunch). I decided to run away. We had Florida Pine Flatwoods and Scrub behind our house. We kids called them “the woods.” Imaginative huh? This was before the woods became more houses. I told my mom I was headed to the woods. She told me be back by dinner.

So…I’m having a great time finding a site to stay and imagining a night under the stars. I made grandiose plans for my life in the woods. The sun is sinking in the sky as my tummy growls a little. I wonder what I might eat. I see some red berries but I can’t remember if they were ones dad said were okay to eat, or would give my a tummy ache. I think about sneaking in the back yard and climbing our mango tree. But the mango’s were still green. Even at my tender age I knew I didn’t like the mangos until they were yellow. Hmm. Is that mom calling us home for dinner? Like a smart girl I went home for dinner. I may have been a tow-headed kid but I wasn’t dumb! I don’t even think my mom knows I ran away from home (psst: she will now).

I think I was eight or nine when I told my mom I wanted to live with my grandmother because, she loved me more than mom and dad. I think I may have cracked my precious mom’s heart. I always feel a bit of guilt when I think of what I did to her that fateful day.

We all went  to visit grandmother’s home that weekend. After the visit, mom, dad, and my sister left me to live with my grandmother. I lasted two maybe three days. My grandmother stood with her arms crossed over her chest at the other side of the kitchen watching me call home. Sobbing, I begged to go back home.

Mom came gathering me and my stuff up taking back. My old world immigrant grandmother cleaned more than my mom! Who knew?  Whew that was a close one! {wink} I think she may have played up the chores a bit to teach me a valuable lesson, you know grass greener and all that, but maybe not…

I have learned these lessons from long ago but, I also admire those who pick up their bags setting out on uncharted territory reaching for their dreams. How do they have the guts to do that! Really! Right now the responsibilities are heavy and I feel tied down. I must be a patient. For tonight I’m thinking that instead of cutting the ties that bind, I will undo the knots as I prepare to find my own path.

I am determining and praying about some new actions to change the habits creating the space I occupy. It’s hard to embrace change even when I want it. I will because a new path is very important to me. Tonight I will resist the urge to pack some snacks in a bandanna (tied to a stick of course),  get in the car (in my night-shirt no less), and drive. Tomorrow maybe I’ll give in after a good night’s rest.

zzzzz Milly {snore} zzzzz