The words “I promise” have lost their meaning. Amongst the current vocabulary of society, “I promise” has become mixed together with any of the multiple affirmative phrases one may use to tell a friend they’ll save them a spot at dinner. I don’t like that. I believe promises to be more. I believe promises are guarantees made with the whole weight of somebody’s regard for another human being behind it. In my writing of this piece I knew well the instances I could draw from to describe the damage done to myself and those closest to me by promises broken, but that I’m here now in and of itself is a stunning display of the power held by promises kept.
At 5 years old my dad moved on from us and married a ranching woman that owned 64 acres outside the town of Loving, Texas. Not one for the ranching lifestyle, I spent the majority of my weekends with dad shut up in a large ranch house in the center of those 64 acres that sat on top of the sorriest looking hill you’d never remember seeing. Two floors, three bathrooms, an empty living room, adjacent kitchen, and a broken tv playing static accompanied by wind chimes was my entire world done up in camo and animal skin decorating for as long as I spent time there. I question what could have become of me in that ranch house if it hadn’t been for that ranching woman’s daughter. She was 4 years older than I was at the time and carried an air of blanket dissatisfaction with the world in general. Needless to say, I related to her instantly.
I suppose I could never know unless I asked but I suspect that being older than me, and having had her parents divorce around my age, that she may have looked at me ghosting around that house which could never be a home and recognized something of herself. or at least, she saw a bit of what she’d felt. Her first words to me were “Hey, have you read this?”, and I don’t think she could’ve picked better ones. I read the book she gave me, watched the film adaptation with her the next day, and that was that. It’d be unfair to say she was my best friend. She gave something that I never could’ve imagined existed in that godforsaken house. She became my family and kept me sane for the next 8 years.
I turned 13 and my dad does what he does and moved on once again. My last weekend there before he left for good and took me with him, she found me and asked plainly how I felt about it. I told her the truth. I wouldn’t miss the ranch. I wouldn’t miss the horses or the cows. I wouldn’t miss her mom, and I wouldn’t miss that perfect purgatory of a house. I would miss her. She started crying then and smiled at me through her tears in a way that I could never forget if I tried. She grabbed me and said “You’re my family. Nothing can change that or ever will. You know that, and we’ll see each other again. I promise.”
My dad and I left the next day and for four years I had my memories of her and nothing else. Dad didn’t keep their phone numbers, and you can be sure we weren’t welcome to visit. I lived with my mom, dad moved to Florida, and I approached my senior year of high school without any thought to being able to see her again but for the promise she made me. Her letter came in the mail one day and I read the name on it 4 times before opening it. She was graduating college, She was getting married, and She wanted her family there for both occasions. She meant me. I saw her for the first time in four years at her wedding rehearsal and I could’ve passed out from the hug I got when she recognized me. I told her that I was just so happy to see her again. She said “I promised.”
Promises aren’t just words. They’re tethers that hold people together and give kids wondering who their family still is the hope to look forward to the future. Promises are everything that make people worth knowing. This I believe.
Chase, I love this so much.
It just needs a little finessing for writing, punctuation, flow. Here are a few notes:
“but that I’m here now in of itself is a stunning display of the power held by promises kept” – “in and of itself”
“I only had to pick the right one speak on. I believe I may have done that.” – maybe you don’t need this?
“She was 4 years older than I was at the time and carried an air of general dissatisfaction with the world in general.” – using “general” twice in one sentence will sound redundant; read the whole thing aloud before recording to “hear the flow.”
At 13 years old my dad does what he does and moved on once again. – This sounds like your dad is 13.
Tidy it up and record it. It’s great.
Hello Chase! I am honestly not sure what to put here as far as nit picking goes, since it seems Prof. Bedell already wrote about the only things I noticed….
I suppose I will say that some sentences seemed a tad awkward, such as “I suppose I could never know but for asking but I suspect that being older than me…” I think the second “but” is not needed? I’m not quite sure. I think just reading every sentence allowed should fix any awkwardness.
I love the story!
I absolutely loved the way you went about your piece. I agree with Amber in saying that there isn’t anything to really add/change after Professor Bedell spoke on it. Other than that, this was really enjoyable and I’m excited to hear it as a podcast!