30 Days to Love

Day 25: Old Ways

Shauna makes it through two more engineering finals. Her brain is one big mushy complication. She moves slowly through the halls of the engineering building. Oh if these walls could talk. Shauna runs her fingers along the hall as she leaves the building for what may be the last time.

The entire campus is filled with student zombies, pushing themselves to make it through to the middle of next week. Shauna has one more final on Monday and her student career will officially be over. The next phase in her life begins in less than a week. She wonders how long she can keep avoiding it. She's going to try her best to find out.

She stops in the middle of campus, her books weighing down her shoulder (she needs to remember to sell her books back to the university store, she thinks – another thing to worry about before she leaves). She looks around, taking it all in. The buildings will always signify blood, sweat and tears. A lot of tears. She admits that she felt challenged the entire time. Her professors were patient and never gave up on her – even though she was ready to give up on them. She drank more beer than anyone ever should. She danced in the middle of the night. Ate pizza at 3 am. Made friends. She built things. Won awards. She got prepared for life. And fell in love. It was everything a college experience should be.

Shauna looks up at the sky. The sun is trying to break through but it can't seem find an opening in the clouds. She can relate. She often feels like she's in the clouds and can't find her way out.

They're in the middle of June gloom in LA – the period when the normally sunny LA is overcast and foggy. It happens every June and it always feels like a surprise. Tourists are usually disappointed when they plan a trip to LA in June. They expect it to sunny and warm. Instead the beaches are foggy and cool. San Francisco is even worse. It can be downright cold up there in the middle of summer. She wonders what New York will be like in June. She's heard it's hot and stinky. It will be nice to start over somewhere new and very far from all she's just lost. Perhaps the distance will help her heal from the loss of James that much quicker.

She should head home and pack for New York. She pulled out her suitcase last night but she couldn't bring herself to start packing. The act of packing felt like she was saying goodbye to James with every fold of her clothes. The closer she gets to leaving, the reality of her loss grows stronger. So she keeps procrastinating. She's really not looking forward to getting on a plane tomorrow. She has unfinished business in Los Angeles. The timing couldn't be worse.

Instead of going home, she drives to her parents. They always seem to know how to make her feel better. She feels compelled to speak to her father – try to clear the air before she's thousands of miles away. If she can fix one relationship before she goes, she knows she will feel better.

Shauna arrives at her parents. She hopes she can one day have a home like this with her own family. She never realized how great she had it. She's figuring it out now. She hopes it's not too late.

Her dad opens the door.

"Shauna! How nice to see you. What brings you home? Will you be joining us for dinner?" Her dad's smiling face is too much. She feels the love he has for her. She rushes into his arms. He holds her.

"Honey, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry Dad." She starts crying. She didn't expect to be so emotional but the floodgates have opened and her dad has become the recipient of her pent up sorrow and confusion over the chaos that has been wrenching her heart these past few weeks.

"What are you sorry about?"

"I'm sorry I pushed you away all this time."

"I know why you did. I deserved it."

"No, it was too much. You have always been there for me. I shouldn't have been so hard on you." She pulls away from his embrace. "Can we start over?"

"Of course, we can." He kisses her on her head. He puts his arm around her and they head to the kitchen. "How about I open us a nice bottle of wine and we help mom with dinner?"

"Okay," she laughs. "That sounds great. What's on the menu?"

"Spaghetti."

"Yes! Garlic bread too?"

"Of course."

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I was hoping you could show me your new designs after dinner."

"Would love to," he smiles. He squeezes her close and she feels good putting the past behind her. She wishes she and James could work things out. But she's afraid it's too late for them.

After dinner, Shauna and her dad take their dessert to his office and they go over his current wind turbine plans. Shauna recognizes his designs have led to an important advancement – something she would have never concluded on her own. And it seems so simple. That's the thing that always amazes her about engineering. You can struggle for years over a problem and once you solve it, the solution you were struggling to fine can seem so simple – like it was right in front of you the entire time. Inspired by her father's accomplishments, she excitedly tells him about the work she has been doing as well. They determine that her conclusions can help augment his designs. They volley ideas back and forth on how to improve upon their new developments.

"Shall we look at the history of the turbine? It might reveal something we haven't considered," he says.

"Good idea."

Shauna's dad opens his computer. Time flies by as she and her dad discuss their ideas. They're finishing each other's sentences and each other's drawings. Quickly, they fall back into their old ways. Shauna's mom checks in on them, happy to see them working so well together – as it should be. She reminds them of the time. Shauna can't believe how late it is. She needs to go home and rest before her flight in the morning. She hugs her dad and mom. They wish her luck on her trip.

Shauna gets home late. She sees a letter that came for her that day resting on her pillow. She opens it. It's a written invitation from James. I hope you can make it to my show tomorrow. I miss you.

Shauna sits down slowly on her bed. She folds the invitation and puts it back in the envelope.