A Memory

Today I think I'll share a memory from my childhood.
When I was little, maybe 7 or 8, everyone on my dad's side of the family took a trip together. We went on a train ride to Golden, British Cloumbia, and stayed in a hotel. The train ride was really exciting for a little girl. I was surprised once the train got going that it didn't really feel like we were moving at all, and we could get up and walk around. I had imagined that it would be more like a roller coaster ride, all of us stuck to the back of our seats the whole time. To keep us entertained my sister and I got a brand new huge box of crayons with a built-in sharpener, which is always exciting for kids. My little cousin (Crystal, I think) came over to play with us and broke a couple crayons and ripped out the sharpener, and we were really annoyed. Apparently there was romance in the air; one of my older cousins met her future husband.
We got to the hotel and we were all sitting in the foyer and I headed to the restroom. Right before I went in I thought that I should tell someone where I was going, but I looked around and there they all were, and I didn't think all those people with all that stuff could clear out of there before I got back. But I was wrong. When I opened the door the place was totally deserted, except for the hotel worker behind the counter. I was shocked. Not knowing what to do I went back in the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. My anxiety started rising when I thought about my situation. Here I was, alone, in a strange place far from home, and nobody knew where I was. I could never find them; I could walk the hotel hallways and all the doors would be closed, they would all look the same. The only solution was to go ask that guy behind the counter which rooms they were in. But I was really shy, and that option terrified me. I remember standing in front of the mirror, and just crumbling under the stress of it all, big, sad tears rolling down my face. After awhile I composed myself, dried my tears with paper towels, berated myself for crying because the guy would think I was a fool, and started rehearsing what I would say. It had to be short so I could say it in as few words as possible, and to the point so I wouldn't start crying again. I stood at the door forever, my heart pounding, palms sweating, trying to tell myself it wasn't any big deal to talk to a stranger, feeling very strongly that in fact is was a big deal, and maybe I couldn't actually do it. I pushed the door open a crack and peeked out.
And there, by the counter with the scary stranger, stood my salvation in the form of my Grandpa.
Everything was okay now! I walked over to him and put my arms around him, buried my face in his shirt and cried my little heart out. He patted me on the back, and smiled and laughed in a confused sort of way at how his little grandaughter had appeared out of nowhere, so visibly distressed.
I was reunited with my family, who, if I remember correctly, didn't know that I was lost yet. We enjoyed the rest of our trip, made happy memories. My Grandpa passed away many years ago, shortly after Jared and I were married. I'll never forget that feeling I had when I was so scared and alone, and he fixed it all just by being there. It's one of my favorite memories of my Grandpa.
I have many good memories. Some are about you! Leave a comment if you want me to share a memory I have about you. It might be fun! My goal is to do this once a week, as long as it's still interesting for my blog readers. Shall we?