My Willpower (from the Past)

In 1998, I was in the 7th grade. It was the one year in my entire childhood where the schools closed on account of bad weather. You would expect the schools to be closed more frequently given the fact that I lived in the mountains of Colorado during my adolescent years, but that only happened once in my 12 years of school. Regardless, I remember the time when my patience was grid-iron despite a challenging time and though I had a reputation for being a "hot-head," I also had the ability to wait forever. Where has my willpower gone? How did I lose it in the first place? What was it that I had that made me stronger then instead of today? Let's see how much I remember...

It was the week before the giant blizzard. We had accrued plenty of snow that year -- so much that plow trucks had built us a giant fort just by piling it all in one area of the parking lot. We had lots and lots of snow and even though the roads were supposed to be cleared for people picking up their kids, they weren't and in fact, all of the buses chained up their tires. I remember it being like any other winter afternoon that day. The school bell rang, I left my class, grabbed my books, and headed outside to the cloudy and gray outdoors. Sometimes my parents would arrive before I could leave, sometimes they would arrive afterwards. Because this was the norm, I didn't think too much when I did not see my parent's car outside. Rather, I spent most of the time just chatting with my friends. Half an hour quickly passed by and by this time, the school premise was fairly vacant. My friends had all caught their respective buses or parents while I continued to loiter the school grounds. I considered stepping back into the school doors to stay warm but ultimately, I avoided doing so fearing that I would miss my parents if I did. About 10 minutes later as I was rubbing my hands together to keep warm, the school intercom called me to the office for an important message. I thought, "Wow, look at me! I'm so important they called me to the office!" Without a second thought, I bolted towards the main entrance and headed towards the main office. There, I had a phone call from my sister. What she reported turned my blood colder than the arctic temperatures of the north pole. Our parents were in a car accident. A semi-truck merged into their lane forcing the car off of the bridge. My brain stopped functioning and the next few sentences drowned out on the phone. The only clear instruction was to go to the public bus station, wait for the next bus to arrive, and return home immediately. I was equally as worried as I was scared. But that didn't matter, my mission was clear: get to the bus stop and return home as soon as possible. What happened to mom, to dad? Were they together when they left? Where are they now? Are they in the hospital? No, they couldn't be. They had to be at home because otherwise my sister wouldn't tell me to go home... Right?

So, my instincts took over as my brain stayed in its infinite waltz. I returned the phone to the school staff and bowed politely to them. A confused expression grew upon their faces as I turned to walk away. Due to the fact that students were all gone, most of the snow plows stopped trying to clear the roads by now. Regardless, I trekked to the nearest bus stop in the chilling cold, about a block away from my school. There, my body sat itself down on a frozen metal bench and waited. Alone. I was so alone. Even in thought, my instincts noticed how very few cars were driving by. Normally, as this was next to the mall and on the highway, it would be more crowded. But neither the absence of traffic nor the layer of snow covering my body mattered. My parent's car just fell off the bridge.

When I finally saw the bus arrive, I came back to earth and realized just how cold I was. I quickly signaled the bus with my frozen hand and jumped aboard. With my frozen fingers, it took me a many seconds to find a way to pay for the fare as I fumbled for my wallet. Finally seizing the only bill I had, I turned to the driver and asked, "Does this machine give back change?" The bus driver pointed to a sign and said, "Sorry, this is the express bus. It only takes prepaid tickets." On that note, I was told to jump off and wait for the second bus. Without thinking to ask how long it would take (as if that somehow mattered), I walked back out and returned to the bench. This time, it was colder than I remembered and the only thing that kept me company was my brain running through all of the worse-case scenarios possible. I wrapped the collars of my jacket in closer to my face as I tried to hide myself in my thoughts and what was supposed to be a warm coat.

Many more minutes passed. Finally, a second bus showed up. It slowed to a stop in front of me as the chained tires were failing to grip on the icy road. This one was clearly different than the previous one as it had all sorts of gadgets. I noticed one showing the temperature outside. 20 degrees. Regardless, my instincts took me aboard. It even noticed the sign saying, "Exact change only" and then it prompted me to ask the driver, "Excuse me sir, do you have change for a $20 bill?" The man just shook his head and apologized profusely. He told me that I would have to give the exact fare or he would not go on. Now, I felt like my brain was thawing and finally, it I should be embarrassed. So, nervously, I shrugged and turned around and walked off the warm bus. I sat back down on the metallic bench realizing just how cold the bench was. Using what little curse words I knew to release my frustration about everything that was happening, I squat back down on the bench to prevent my bum from freezing. I couldn't feel my fingers, my face, or even the inordinate amount of snow on my back. It didn't matter though.

Somehow, I didn't notice the girl from my school walk towards me. When I did, I tried to strike up a conversation with her. In my pre-pubescent and frustrated voice, I informed her authoritatively that she would need exact change to get on the bus or have a prepaid ticket to jump aboard. In her sweet innocence, she smiled a toothy smile covered with braces and said, "Thanks, but I got my ticket here." I simply looked at her. I couldn't tell if my mouth was hanging open or not because I was just too numb and my brain felt numb. Really, I was also quite tired and just wanted to sleep. After a few seconds pause, she spoke again and said, "Looks like we just missed the bus huh?" I snapped out of my daze and said, "Yeah, I hope the next driver can break my twenty." She told me that while she didn't have change, she could find somebody that did. Looking at her wristwatch and then at the streets, she invited me with her to the restaurant on the other side of the road. It was just a fast food restaurant, nothing extravagant. But here she took me in to the empty place and asked the only cashier working for change. On that note, she beckoned me for my twenty. I obliged feeling my brain tingle as if it was thawing. My face must've been glowing with glee as I received back the change. The girl then said, "Let's go sit down for a while. Like, we have another 20 minutes 'til the next bus comes by, you know? Let's hang out so we don't freeze to death... So, how long were you out there for?" I looked around for a clock and told her I didn't know when I failed to find one. I could only say that I was there since I got a message from my sister at school. Her jaw dropped in shock as she exclaimed, "Was that when they called you on the intercom?! 'Cause that was over 2 hours ago! Didn't you even notice how dark it got? Weren't you cold out there?" Her compassion was really flattering and I didn't know how to respond--probably because my brain and my tongue were both still thawing. Was it really two hours ago? Gosh, no wonder I was tired. She broke the silence as she said, "No wondering you were cussing. I'm impressed that you could stay out there for so long, but hopefully, you don't get a cold!" As our conversation continued a bit further, the alarm on her watch chimed and she told us to quickly return to the bus stop in order to catch the next bus. Opening the door to leave the place, it felt much colder than before and the snow and engulfed the bench by now. By the time we made it back to the bus stop, the bus arrived. From here, things went much smoother. I was able to get on, had exact change and didn't need a prepaid ticket, and continued the conversation for another 30 minutes until she arrived at her stop. After she got off, I stayed on the bus for a few more stops until I could reach my destination and make it home.

As the day continued, I found out that my parents were both safe. The car was forced off the bridge due to a semi-truck merging into their lane and pushing them off the bridge. Though neither vehicle was going very fast, the car took all of the damage and my parents stayed safe despite being landing in a snowy ditch underneath. It was pretty miraculous. Though the car was stuck, neither had to go to the ER or doctor's office for anything. And in those days when we didn't have a cell phone, all my parents could do was ask try and flag drivers for help. One person did and seeing everybody was safe, went to a public store somewhere and left a message on our answering machine at home. As for my parents, they waited for a tow-truck to pull the car out of the ditch.

Because of that time, I had noticeably developed an iron-will that was incapable of being demolished. I even went so far as to sleep on the floor of a closet as a testament to my level of strength. This was ultimately short-lived as I no longer have that level of strength. Unfortunately, there are even some days now when it is 40 degrees and I am caught wearing two layers of clothing! Why? I suppose my strength was drawn from my love of my family. Anymore, it seems like that may not be the case. And, quite literally for the life of me, I cannot seem to go to that level of strength and love for my family as I had before in my life. What is wrong with me? Did I die a little inside somehow? I think it may be something regarding my character or my perspectives. Optimism? Pessimism? A lack of ethics? None of those have changed. It's more like complacency. Hm... That sounds more accurate. So, when I had more passion back in the day, what was that passion for, where did it come from? Certainly, a part of it was to make my family proud, but what else was it? I'll see if I can remember and put it in another blog next time...