On my own

Written by William Baylor

After several years of living at home with my parents, I decided that I thought it was finally time for me to move out on my own. I was twenty five years old. I know this seems a bit too old to be living at home. However, my mother had insisted that I stick around to help dad on the farm. The reason that I stayed was for them and not for me. Just like most young adults, I was looking forward to getting a place of my own the day that I turned eighteen. But that day came and went and there I stayed for seven years longer than I thought.
When my father decided he was getting too old to tend the farm, he decided to sell. When he decided to sell I made it known that I would not be moving with them. It was time for me to find my own way in the world. Within a few weeks I was moving into my brand new apartment in the middle of town. It thrilled me to be able to even have my own home internet and cable service, which was cheaper because I got what I’d always wanted – a DIRECTV Bundle.
One night, after I had been in my apartment for about a week, I had decided to do some more unpacking. Between work and getting mom and dad moved, I just had not had much time to get anything done for myself. I packed a box of dishes in the kitchen and set it on the counter. When I opened the lid I was surprised to see a hand written note from my mother. It was a simple thank you note that told me how much my parents had appreciated me putting my life on hold to help them. I stood there in the kitchen as a grown man, fighting back tears that were burning my eyes. As strange and cowardly as it sounds, I guess I began to feel a bit homesick. I called my mother who was in tears as well, but did her best to not let her voice show it. After we talked, I felt better. For the first time in my life I was no longer sure of why I had to move on to a place of my own.


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