It's just how life is.
We were on our way to London, from France. We drove for quite some time to arrive at the ferry around 4 AM. I didn’t have a good relationship with my parents and sister for some time but this trip felt a bit different. I was reconnecting with them in some way, it felt kinda nice.
While I was away from my family, I started smoking. They didn’t know yet, but standing in the snow, at 4 am, slightly sleep deprived, waiting for the crew to remove ice for us to able to board.. It was the perfect moment to light one up.
The cold and collective waiting of everyone forged a bonding moment, even with the other people waiting. We exchanged looks, I knew they felt the same. We just wanted to get on the ferry and get going, but we were not going anywhere soon.
I noticed a small building with an open door, some dim lights coming out. Probably a public restroom I remember thinking, out of boredom I went to see it. When I walked inside I noticed this shabby coffee machine just standing there. It wouldn’t be good coffee, but it was something hot to keep in my hands, so decided to just try it. I fed a coin, some rumbling and a few moments later I had this classic white plastic cup filled with hot coffee in my hands. This was it, now my moment to smoke was complete.
I walked back to our car, took my tobacco out, rolled my cigarette and lit it up. My father looked at me, surprised, but he didn’t say a word about it. I like to remember he gave me a little smirk, but honestly I’m not sure. I was too afraid for some small moment of judgement. I do remember feeling it wasn’t approval, nor disapproval. Just acknowledgement. Which was nice.
After I finished both my coffee and smoke, my sister and I used my cup to build some random stuff with snow on the back of our car. We enjoyed ourselves, until it finally was time to go aboard.
Vaguely I remember some other moments from that trip, but the one moment I remember the best was this; I was outside of our hotel, smoking on the street. My father came outside and stood next to me. He didn’t say much, just wanted some company I guess. At some point I turned to him, and I said sorry.
Sorry for all the years that I wasn’t a great child, sorry for being difficult and misunderstood. Sorry for not appreciating the things you did for us. Sorry for all of it.. My father just stared in the distance while I was doing my speech. He was quiet for a moment, then said don’t worry about it. It’s just how life is.
That trip was a turning point for the relationship with my parents, for the better.