The Only Setting

As I pulled up on the driveway of my vacant home for eighteen years I felt a surge of memories cloud my brain. I knew that I needed to come to terms with the idea of fleeing the city of Sacramento to Boston, but the more I surged through my memories I began to doubt my decision. How could I leave the only home that I’ve ever known? More importantly, how could I leave the home of my endless childhood? The treehouse. I exited my tiny blue car with brown cardboard boxes as I walked through the fence door that led to the backyard. The sun was shining through the clear summer sky and the wind was blowing against the leaves of the trees. As I began walking toward the treehouse filled with endless mementos a knot began to form in the pit of my stomach. I looked up to get a clear view of the wooden house that glowed atop the big oak tree filled with vibrant green leaves that reminded me of antique gems. I climbed the steps of the ladder that led to the entrance of the treehouse waiting with the last few items inside that needed to be packed. When I reached the entrance I pushed back the blue crisp curtain that substituted for a door and my eyes began to wander around the walls filled with photographs. I walked deeper into the open space passing by the brown coffee table placed in the middle of the room with a vase of plastic roses that still managed to glow in the sunlight coming through the panel at the farthest wall. I guided my eyes toward each of the photos neatly placed around the walls. I began to reminisce about the moments in which those photos were taken. One of those photos was the day of the local carnival with my best friend, Emily as we decided to ride the Mountain Drop five times yet while waiting for our order of cotton candy and corndogs we managed to take a quick selfie together. Our faces were pressed together with our dark brown hair all over our cheeks due to the strong breeze yet we had huge grins on our faces due to the rush from the rollercoaster. The photo next to the carnival selfie was a picture of my only pet ever, Toby. In the photo, Toby was sprawled across the carpet resting near the Christmas tree. He was wearing a festive holiday sweater with bright colors of green and red. His tongue was sticking out showing off the cutest grin that always made my heart melt. That Christmas was the day I gifted him his last gift, a new blue-collar. The small pug was overjoyed with his gift taking the ball everywhere he went. That was the last photo that I took of him before he lost his battle to cancer. I have mourned him ever since he was buried in our background where we planted dandelions to mark his grave. Toby was always energetic yet sweet. I miss how he always waited for me by the front door until I came home from school and how every time he came running into my arms when he witnessed me on the verge of tears. He was special to me ever since he was gifted to me for Christmas by my mother when he was only a puppy. I soon backed away from the wall that displayed various family photographs and started working. I began by packing my personal library filled with nostalgic children’s books as well as the cheesy romance novels that warmed my heart during my early teenage years. After my books were packed I began taking down the white and blue streamers that were used to make the treehouse more decorative. I then started packing the vase of plastic roses and the small blue rug that was always comfortable to sit on. Soon after, I packed all of my stationery items like my glow in the dark highlighters to the stacks of my school journals and papers that I always kept as a reference. Nearly 3 o'clock the inside of my beloved treehouse was bare except for my tin cookie box sitting on the floor that I saved for last. I sat down on the wooden floor to go through the personal items that I kept hidden. When I popped open the lid I immediately noticed the random movie tickets as well as my custom pens. As I dug through the items I found various seashells that I use to collect at the beach every summer with my parents. We always enjoyed going to the beach as we walked along the sand with our feet bare and enjoying the waves of the ocean. My mother would always compliment the color of the blue water. I also found the silver rings that I wore for special occasions as well as my old charm bracelet with my name engraved on one of the charms. I managed to even find my grandfather’s antique compass with a unique design on the back that was passed down to me before he passed away and then I saw it. I found the item that I was anxiously searching for. My mother’s locket which of course was blue. I opened the locket to see my baby picture. I was only a year old yet I still managed to smile for the camera. My mother would always open the locket when she was upset or nervous. She always teased me that my smile would make her content and warm. I remember the day she gave me her locket. Two years ago she took me on a final trip to the beach to enjoy the view. As we sat on the sand she revealed the tragic news to me. She informed me that her leukemia was worsening and that she didn't have much time left. I remember crying immediately and holding her as close as possible, never wanting to let go. How could I let go of someone that I loved and admired? She inspired me to embrace the color blue as it represented the waves that she herself admired. She always believed that life was like an ocean filled with waves. She always said that when you stepped into the water that you were wandering an environment that could consume you or that could float you to new beginnings. That even though the water is pure and innocent you will still face the waves that represent all our hardships. That our only job in the water is to keep swimming and to reach the surface when we are pulled down under. Before we began walking home I continued to latch onto her arm like a five-year-old holding on to their mom before entering their first day of school. She enveloped me into a hug and placed her locket around my neck. I was too shocked to mutter any words. She told me to keep it with me as a reminder that she will not break the surface of the water but that doesn’t mean that I have to stop swimming because she is not there to guide me through the treading waters. She never showed me the picture inside the locket, only that it was of me. She always clutched the locket tight inside her hands and never took it off even for a minute. Several months have passed until she lost her battle with cancer just like Toby. After her funeral, I spent all of my time inside the treehouse. It was my home away from reality. A place that I could escape to when I needed space to cope with my loss. There were so many things I wanted my mother to be present for. After her passing my relationship with my father was strained. We became distant from one another as I spent all day hiding in the treehouse. We stopped speaking altogether as well as enjoying trips to the beach to honor my mother’s favorite place. I always wondered if our relationship would heal and it did. On the one year anniversary of her passing my father entered the treehouse and wrapped me in his arms. I was taken aback but then I held him tighter. We then began to sob for a solid hour. He then apologized for giving me too much space. He felt that it was better to not discuss her passing in hopes that life would be easier but it only made things more difficult. We became more honest with one another and we each attended therapy to fight back against our depression. Eventually, we both became closer and we managed to continue our walks to the beach but not to honor mom but to honor life in general and how her analogy on life was true. Her tragedy was an extreme hardship that my dad and I had to face the “big wave” as my mom would say. My dad and I learned that we needed to confront this tragedy to overcome this challenge and continue “swimming.” Life has thrown many hardships my way but the latest one was telling my father that I was accepted to Tufts University in Boston. My heart ached as I gave him the news. I was all who he had left and was moving far away from home. My dad congratulated me and showed signs of despair. I got the idea of visiting the treehouse. As we sat down I expressed my sadness for leaving him but soon after he told me that he will miss me deeply but that he will be just fine. He even brought up the idea of purchasing a new home to be closer to the beach in order to feel secure in life which meant selling our home. We quickly embraced and called it a night. I was saddened to have to leave the home with all my memories with her, especially having to leave behind the treehouse that she spent all weekend long building for me. During the past couple of days, my dad and I have managed to pack everything from our old home. After everything was left bare he told me that I would have to face the greatest challenge yet, packing my things from the treehouse which is why I came here today. Checking my phone I realized that it was time to go. I placed the locket around my neck and I packed the tin box safely into the cardboard box.  After placing the boxes into my car I walked back into the backyard to admire the treehouse. Even after all these years the treehouse still remained in place giving a wild minded human a home. A home that served its purpose to grow in as well as facing the challenges of tragedy. I only hope that the family that moves in will admire the wooden structure as it has the capacity to change one’s life. It served as the folder to my various memories like my first kiss, my first sleepover, and my first interaction with my dad in months. As I left and entered my car I realized how impactful a setting truly is. How my mother coped with her firsts and her memories at the beach I did with my treehouse. Leaving now I came out with my head held high ready for a new chapter to begin and that in order to move forward I had to let go. There are only so many things that last with you forever and the treehouse isn't one. This afternoon in the treehouse has taught me that I'm not selfish for leaving but instead, I am strong for admiring the beauty in front of me and the new challenges that I am willing to face by breaking out of my comfort zone and leaving behind what I believed to only know yet there is still so much left to explore.