Martin Hooijmans | Lars de Ruyter
A fierce wind howled around the car, and cut into his face. It felt strangely cleansing, as if old bits of memory were chipped away, to make room for new ones. New beginnings, he stood at the brink of them, would topple over the edge in a matter of minutes. Already the engine ran.
He glanced over at his parents, and sensed the time of goodbye had come. It did not feel like goodbye, more like a see you soon, but then his mother took him into an embrace tighter and more loving than he had ever felt. She sobbed deeply into his shoulder. It changed everything. The finality began to sink in.
“It’s okay, mom, we’ll see each other soon.” But how soon? How many months would it be?
Then came his dad, warm as always, wishing him all the luck in the world. All the while his mom still occupied his mind. She had unlocked something deep inside of him, something locked away, like most of his stronger feelings.
Then it was time to go.
As the car pulled out and the waving was done, he slowly, but surely, broke. His feelings poured out in a trickle of tears, and his love took him into her arms, soothing, gentle. She kissed his forehead.
“It’s my mom,” he managed. “The way she held me.”
“I know,” she said, all the while smiling at him.
He let the tears flow, torn between happiness and sadness, and remembered the words a dear friend had shared.
Trust in the magic of new beginnings.
He would. And staring at the beauty next to him, giving him that perfect smile, he corrected himself.