Emotional Samsonite

My sister and I were discussing the lifetime of emotional baggage we all lug around with us. She is working hard on getting rid of hers. I, on the other hand, have clung to mine like it’s gold-plated. I told her I’m still steamed about an incident that happened to me in the third grade. A mere 49 years ago, yet it seems like just last week. I really want to release these bad feelings and set them free. The third grade incident seems like a good place to start. The year was 1963, and I had been out sick from school for about a week. We carpooled with Mrs. M. who was very scatterbrained. After school, I was standing outside her car trying to think of something clever to say after being gone for a week. While I had my hand on the car door handle, she peeled out. I assumed she would come right back, so I hung out in the parking lot, waiting. And I waited. And I waited. Nobody came back for me. I was alone on the planet... for TWO f*#*ing hours. I finally had enough, and took matters into my own hands. I walked up to my grandmother’s house, which was about 5 blocks away. As I write this, it seems like a no-brainer that I should have walked there right away. In my defense, though, I was only nine. I had never walked anywhere alone, and really, really thought I’d be rescued at any moment. I stormed into Gram’s house at the same time my mother was calling to see if I was there. I was furious! Not only had Mrs. M. driven off without me, it had taken my mother two hours to notice that I hadn’t come home from school. I had to play nice and accept Mrs. M.’s apology. So now, as my sister put it so sweetly, it’s time to clean the turd out of the swimming pool. Off you go Mrs. M. It’s alright. I turned out OK, nobody molested me in the parking lot, and I didn’t get run over by a car on the way to Gram’s house. I’m sure the walk did me some good. Sigh... I have a very long road ahead of me. Got steamer trunks full of junk to get gone. It will feel pretty good, I imagine, to purge. One down and a gajillion to go...