The Cat's In the Cradle and the Silver Spoon

I am one of those people who don't believe in regrets. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and that every mistake we make has a lesson to be learned from, and therefore is not worth regretting. But this past weekend, all of that belief went right out the window. Because I know I made my biggest regret.

It starts with Friday. I left a little after 3pm to go home. My mission for this trip home, seeing as I had only been there two weekends before, was to talk to my parents about my financial situation. You see, I am literally the definition of a poor-college student. Even though I saved up money in high school and saved room and board last year by working as an RA, I still ended up blowing all of my money on my travels in England. Now people say that you don't regret spending money on traveling, because it is always worth the experience. I'm beginning to think that I beg to differ.

Anyways, once I let my Mom in on my financial struggles she informed my Dad who suggested one weekend I come home and talk about how much I have and and how much I need. I was misinformed. I thought my Dad meant to come home as soon as I could. What he meant was the next weekend I come home we'd talk about it; I didn't have to make a trip home just for this. But it was too late now. I had made my decision to go home earlier that week and so I arrived just a little after 5pm. But my trip would be short; I had planned to come back on Saturday and I promised my boyfriend I would. I told my parents this as well. It seemed like it was going to be a good weekend.

Well, Saturday evening rolls around and I'm once again gathering up my things to go back to Ball State, when my Dad comes and says, "You know, you don't have to go back tonight. You can stay." I knew what this meant. It was my Dad's way of saying that he didn't want me to leave just yet. I went on packing though, wondering whether it was just an offer or if he seriously wanted me to stay. At this point I couldn't tell.

As my time of departure inched closer my Mom chimed in on her wishes. She didn't feel comfortable with me driving alone at night, especially on the back country roads I take. I knew this was an excuse as well, seeing as how last year they had no problem with my driving home for winter break at night alone in the middle of a snow storm. So then I blatantly asked them, "Do you want me to stay?"

My Dad said that we could have a camp fire, I could stay the night and have coffee and Krispy Kreme donuts in the morning (I had earlier mentioned my craving for Krispy Kreme). By then it didn't need to be said. My parents wanted me to stay. Plain and simple.

But I felt stuck. I had promised my boyfriend I would be back, and he had text me earlier that day saying how he missed me and was looking forward to seeing me that night. I was in a corner, and the outcome would be guilt either way. If I stayed, I would be a bad girlfriend. If I left, I would be a bad daughter. There was no win.

My parents helped me decide. Since I had made a promise that I would be back, they told me I couldn't break my promise and started helping me pack my car. The whole while I was fighting back tears. I knew before I even left what I was doing. I was choosing my boyfriend over my family. I felt like I was breaking my own heart.

As soon as I pulled out of the driveway and waved goodbye, the tears broke free. I started crying, silently cursing myself for the decision I had just made. 20 minutes later I was still crying. 30 minutes later, still crying. An hour into my drive the tears were still flowing, while all the while the voice in my head kept saying, "Turn around, go back, it's not too late!" I don't know why I didn't turn around. It would've been so easy to go back, apologize and spend some time with my family, call up my boyfriend tell him the situation and apologize to him as well. I knew he would've understood. But I was in a daze. Too disappointed with myself to try to make it right. I felt numb, and so I kept driving.

I arrived in Muncie and called my parents to let them know I made it. They thanked me for the text messages I sent (John Mayer's "Say" came on while I was at a stop light and so I sent them texts saying I loved them) and were happy to hear I made it. I went inside to my boyfriend's and kept my cool. Until of course, as always, Joe was able to pick up that something that was wrong. When he asked me, the tears started flowing and I ran into the bathroom and poured out how mad I was at myself. After everything my parents have done for me, after all they've given, I was too selfish to stay for just one extra night. The one thing that I could give them was my time, and I couldn't even give them that.

Joe held me as I cried again for another hour. Once the tears stopped and I calmed down, something happened that I certainly didn't see coming.

Joe turned to me, and although I can't remember everything he said, it was something along the lines of how seeing me react this way, seeing how much I care about my family, gave him the chance to see the real me. And then, the words I had been longing to hear for six months were finally said..."I love you."

Really?

Ironically, in the moments in which I hated myself my boyfriend was able to see that he loves me. Which, in a way, reaffirmed my faith in love. Because love is steadfast; you should feel the same love for someone when they're at their worst as when they are at they're best. It was comforting to know that despite my horrendous mistake, my boyfriend was able to see my intentions.

My parents also still love me, even though I left them at the one moment I should have stayed. I told them I was sorry I had not stayed and that I wish I had. They were already over it. Which is also comforting. A parent's love is unconditional.

As I look back on that night I can't help but wonder if that was suppose to happen. Because if I had never chose my boyfriend over my parents, would my boyfriend have ever seen how much I care and realize that he loves me? And if not, how much longer would it have taken? I wished to those words so badly. I guess the saying's true; be careful what you wish for.

In the end, I still do regret leaving my family, despite how happy I am to know that my boyfriend and I are on the same page. I can't help but think that one day when they're gone and I'm not going to have the choice to spend my time with them, I'm going to look back on this day and really hate myself for it. I know it's a little morbid, but that's the reality of life. Putting it in that perspective, tears are still coming to my eyes.

There is a race next Sunday that my Dad is going to. My run club usually goes to this race, but that weekend we'll be in Chicago. But since our race is on a Saturday, and that race is on a Sunday, I can still make the drive to Minster, OH and cheer my Dad on. I'll get to see my parents, and even though no matter how much time I spend with them in the future will never make up for what I've missed in the past, I hope this will at least show them that I do love them and that I do care.

Until then, the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon. Little boy blue and the man on the moon. "When you coming home, daughter?" "Dad I don't know when, but we'll get together then. You know we'll have a good time then."