The Vacation Rage Spill

We had spent two hours hiking. I’d planned the family trip in painstaking detail. I always do.

You can’t go to the Comox Valley and not go hiking. So I woke everyone up early and made sure my backpack was filled with enough snacks and water. 

I coaxed my daughter to dress up quickly. Gave in and let her wear a dress. I checked the watch. I rushed everyone through breakfast. I checked the time. 30 minutes late.

We got into the car and halfway there realized that I forgot her doll at the hotel. 15 minutes to calm her down and wipe her tears.

Two hours of hiking, six snack breaks. Three meltdowns because the snacks were not good enough. One fall and scraped knee. Panicked scrambling through the bag to find a bandaid. We were out of Skye bandaids.

Then we got to the waterfall. The first glimpse of blue water. The thundering sound that drowned out the “Mom, mom, MOM!” 

Five minutes of looking at it, catching my breath. Time to head back.

I’m quiet on the car ride home, eyes glazed over and looking at nothing. My daughter and husband are bickering about something, I don’t know what. 

I feel the pulsating at my temple. I press my lips together, this is not the time. I shouldn’t ruin a vacation. 

I felt a kick at the back of my seat and something pushed out of me with such force, there was no way to push it back down.

My words were rushing out faster than my breath, high pitched voice that was boring a hole in my ear and making its way down into my chest. 

Five minutes of this rage spill for five minutes at the waterfall. They deserved it, maybe more. The shame would come later as I lay awake at midnight. But at least the rest of the trip was better.

Paired Listening

Mother – Florence + The Machine

From the Five Part Body Playlist