Eighteen>>>The Biggest Mistake Of My Life
Taylor Hanson- Jenks Boys Soccer- 1992
I examine my soccer trophies as I take them down off my dresser shelf. I’ve won platinum records and MTV awards but for some reason those are awards are stashed in a box in my dad’s office. Instead, I display my grade school soccer trophies in my room. I run my finger over my engraved name on the trophy and wipe the dust onto my jeans.
“Taylor,” my mom says from the bedroom doorframe, “I set some dinners for you on the counter to take with you to your new place. Don’t forget them.”
It’s funny. A couple weeks ago when I had no intentions of moving out on my own I wandered into the kitchen begging my mother to cook my breakfast.
“You’re older than I was when I got married and started cooking every night. Cook for yourself,” she had told me.
Suddenly, now that I will be living a whole four miles away, I am incapable of cooking on my own apparently.
“Okay Mom,” I humor her, putting the trophies into the cardboard box.
“You don’t have to take everything you know, Taylor. This is still your room too.”
I shrug and look around the pretty bare room. What more do I need here than a bed, a couple outfits, and the old CD player I dug out of the back of my closet?
“And remember, after church on Sunday’s you spend the day here and Wednesday nights for dinner right?” She steps in front of me and looks down at me seriously.
“I know, Mom. And I still have to come to family birthday dinners. We went over it.”
“Well!”
“We went over it! Several times.” I give her a look and chuckle, and she knows she’s being clingy.
“Well I just don’t want you disappearing like those brothers of yours.” She wanders around my room and I can tell she’s mentally releasing me from this house, giving me permission to leave. She’s coming to terms with the fact that her oldest boys will all be gone. I watch her and give her a moment.
She glances at the carpet and rubs her sandal into the stain on the carpet, frowning and looking at me.
I shrug and close up the box. “Could be a spilt beverage. Could be from throwing up from the flu one time. The world may never know.”
“The flu eh?” She raises an eyebrow at me, implying my partying era a couple years back.
I choose to ignore her comment and set the box on the bed, looking over my room. I’m a really sentimental guy. As I sit here memories run through my mind. I can remember screaming fights with my brothers in the doorway and laughing attacks on my bedroom floor. I can remember the first time I was alone with my first real girlfriend and the last time I was with Estelle. I remember the first time Harper came over and shudder as I glance over at my closet and see the pink blazer still hanging up. It is pretty hideous to be honest. I walk over and close the closet doors.
I refuse to get emotional about moving out in front of my mom, so I pick up the box and flick the bedroom light switch off with my chin on the way out.
“I’m gonna bring this out to the car!” I call to her, figuring she wants some time to probably sit and think and probably pray for a moment on her own.
“I’ll be right down,” she tells me, and I head down the stairs and out to the car. Mackie is outside bouncing a basketball ball. He stops when he sees me and holds it on his hip, glaring at me.
“So you’re gonna continue to act like a snot on my last day home eh?” He’s mad that I’m moving out. I open the door to my 4-runner and put the box on the backseat with the rest of them.
“You’re making the biggest mistake of your life,” he warns me in a very serious voice. I cannot help but crack a smile at the tone of his voice. I grab the ball from him and shoot it for the hoop, watching it bounce off the backboard without ever plummeting through the net.
“You suck,” Mackie says angrily and runs after the ball rolling down the driveway.
“I suck at basketball or I suck because I’m making the biggest mistake of my life?” I call after him, curiously.
“You suck because you’re pathetic!”
I smirk and walk into the house. Not for much longer little brother, not for much longer.
After putting my mother’s casseroles in the back of my car I take one last walk around the house. It’s not like this is the last time I’ll ever be here. This will always feel like home. But it will always have a different feeling. It won’t feel like MY home after today.
My mom hurries by me towards the basement. “I’m going to get the Christmas decorations Grandma gave you when you were younger. She wanted you to put them up at your own place!”
“Mom! Christmas isn’t for another two months!” I shake my head. I’m just surprised she hasn’t cried yet. This is a scary time for a mother.
I take advantage of my vacant room and scamper up the stairs to my room again to officially say goodbye. It’s something you have to do in private. I walk into my bedroom and it already feels different. It’s like it belongs to some other kid named Taylor who I don’t know too well. I walk over to the window and peer out at my brother in the driveway tossing the ball at the side of house. He isn’t even aiming at the hoop. He’s just chucking the ball at the side of the house over and over again, angrily.
I look around my room and breathe in slowly. Endings are always hard for me. I don’t handle change well, but this is a good change. My life is suddenly starting to pick up and I’m learning to live. I close my eyes and breathe in the sent of the bedroom I’ve had for the last six years. I run my fingers over the molding around the window and allow myself to cry one tear. It seems silly to cry over, I know, but this is a landmark for me. I, Taylor Hanson, the biggest Mama’s boy in the entire world, am moving out on my own. Once I’ve cried my one tear I feel refreshed. I wipe my face with my wrist and spy the little naked troll sitting on the windowsill. I shove him into my pocket and race down the stairs, sprinting out the front door and wrapping Mackenzie in a big hug, swinging him around in the driveway.