Memoir: The Church Party

I have never seen Connor cry before, and seeing it now really makes me wonder why I always thought he hated me. I always saw him as an annoying older brother, but I was clearly wrong.

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I was 6 or 7 years old at a church school picnic with my mom and siblings. I saw a lot of tables with white tablecloths on them and two longer table covered with food. There was this smell that you only smell at picnics or open grills. There was hamburgers and hotdogs and salty Lays potato chips and fruit and lemonade and an ice cream truck came by. It was delicious. A small group of people off to the side could be heard playing country music. There were also games for the kids to play, carnival games like ring toss, bean bag toss and a giant bouncy caterpillar that smelled like sweaty children to go through. At a certain point I got frustrated with my brother, Connor, (probably over something stupid) and told him that was going back to car, because I didn’t want to get even more mad at him. Except I didn’t know where the car was. I didn’t want to get lost in the maze of cars, so I sat down behind the rock wall to calm down without anyone bothering me. After about 10 minutes of waiting there I was ready to go back and ask when we were going to leave. I stood up, and I walked over to the tables. But what I saw wasn’t what I ever expected to see, especially at that age. My brother and mother were both crying like they just saw a family member be taken away or killed, because they thought that had just happened. When they saw me my mom ran over and hugged me, because they thought I was kidnapped. “Sammie (my sister) wanted to leave so we were about to go the car when I wanted to know where you were, Connor said you went to the car, but when we got to the car you weren’t there, so we thought you might’ve been kidnapped.” My mom said while trying to hold in her tears, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re ok.” I don’t remember what I said, but I must’ve explained that I didn’t know where the car was. I still felt sad and guilty at that moment. Until then, I thought that Connor hated me with no thought of kindness going through his head. I have learned that despite all the times it seems Connor or anyone else in my family seems to hate me with no thought of kindness going through their head. They still love me, and I love them.

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