The day has come. Billy is now a graduate of good old Murdo High. The same school his Mother and Father, as well as numerous aunts, uncles, and one cousin, Terry Sanderson, graduated from. The Sanderson and Francis families are well represented among the alumni of Murdo High School. There are many more family members on the path to join the group. Future graduates will include, Jeff H. and Mark Sanderson, Andrea, Stephanie, and Greg Miller, and of course the little Murdo Girl.
I intend to continue encouraging her to write her stories. I happen to know she has more to tell.
Billy graduated yesterday.
It was mostly, just like any other day. What I mean is, I.. lost..the..race..to..school..again! I would like to say I didn’t try, but I did. Well, that’s water under the bridge. I can walk to school from now on.
I slept on the couch in the front room last night. I knew Earl Rada would be here early to pick Billy up, and I didn’t want to miss saying goodbye. I woke up just in time to see Earl pull up in his green car. I didn’t know what to do while they loaded Billy’s stuff , so I just stayed on the couch. Right when he was headed out the door for the last time, Billy came over to me and said bye. Then, he kissed me on the cheek. I couldn’t say goodbye or anything. I’m not going to wash that side of my face until I have to. I’m not just saying it! I mean it!
Mom woke up in time to send them off. She told Billy, when he gets to California, to call long distance, person-to-person, and ask for himself. Mom will say he’s not here. All she wants to know is, they made it there safely, and we won’t have to pay for the phone call.
I feel pretty sad, and this morning, I even cried some. I don’t know if I’ll like being an only child.
I’m trying to think of some ways we might be better off .
For instance, when people call and ask for Bill, we won’t have to ask, “Big Bill, or little Bill?” Mom won’t have to buy butter AND margarine. Billy thinks he has to have real butter. We can have pizza sometimes. He always leaves the house, because he can’t stand the smell of the boxed pizza we make. Mom can drive me more places, because Billy won’t be hogging the Pontiac. No more toes being pinched, and no more looking for a hot pepper in my hamburger before I eat it. I’m sure I’ll think of more things as time goes on.
I probably won’t be writing about my brother very much anymore, because I won’t be seeing him often. (Although, I’m sure I’ll be having some flashbacks.)