Passport Please

My wife was pulling into the parking lot as I walked out the lobby of the company where I teach an ESL class every morning. Dang what did I forget this time? She always texts before coming so I looked to see but no, no text. 

“Doshita?” What’s up?” I asked as I got up to the driver’s side window. 

She had a strange look on her face. Oh shit one of the kids? Parent fear. First thought is always the kids. 

She held up something in her hand. My passport? Still it didn’t click. She pointed it out to me.  No way! 

She told me. What the hell! No way! 

My heart sunk. How could I…? Immediate self-disgust. How could anyone miss something like that! How could I not know my passport’s expired two days before the flight! God what a dumb ass! I was just getting started. Nobody can beat the hell out of me like I can. 

The self-condemnation continued all the way home―embarrassment with the thought of telling everyone why we didn’t go; disgust for such dumbshit oversight; heartsickness with the thought of telling my younger son.  He had a days left to the trip countdown paper taped to the kitchen counter. He’d been peeling off  a page with each passing day.

I ran through excuses in my head. Every day is so damned busy! Upwards to eight classes to prep for and teach, raising three kids and all that goes with that, buying the house this year and busy with reinforcing it for earthquakes. On and on I built the list but knew deep down it’s the kind of mistake only absent minded pros like myself make.

The shock and self-admonishment grew into depression as I went online to cancel the flight and file a claim to refund airfare. I was feeling lower’n snail turds by the time the boy returned from school.  The sound of the door was followed by his happy call. “Tadaima” (I’m home!) then “Daddy?” My heart sunk even deeper as I walked downstairs to tell him.

I told him.

“Nan-de? Nan-de!” (Why? Why!!)

His eyes filled with tears.

Buddy I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.

“Yada! Yada! Daddy dai kirai! Yada”

(NOOO! I hate daddy!)

He stormed out the door with tears rolling down his cheeks. I couldn’t blame him.  Dad’s aren’t supposed to blow it that bad. I went to the door and half-called out in a defeated voice. “Dude I’m sorry” He kept walking. The depression grew even deeper. 

I know it’s life. I know it’s “shoganai” as they say in Japanese. I know this too shall pass. Everything always does. Inochi Mujo. Life is transience. I even know the reason for the depression this time around.  That’s not always the case. At times it’s come out of nowhere and knocked me on my ass. Those who’ve had to battle the depression demons will understand. 

I learned that alcohol fixes depression way back in high school. It seemed to fix it at least. Whichever the case it stopped working years before I stopped trying it. I’m grateful that alcohol isn’t my solution any more. Not that I’ve anything against drinking. Booze is great stuff. If not an alcoholic I’d still be treating the slightest bit of blues by drinking like a champ. Alas that’s a luxury I can no longer afford. It got way too damned painful, damn near fatal even. So now? I disconnect. Put away the phone, avoid or deactivate Facebook, talk about it when ready and till then just sit and feel it, go for a long bike ride or walk in the nearby hills and feel it. It’s the feeling it that I’m grateful to be able to do most. Go through it sober. Feel it for all its worth. That's something I couldn't do for the longest time.

I heard others tell of going through far worse experiences than forgetting to renew a passport and not drinking over it. It took some years of try and fail before getting to the point where I can do it myself. I can now say with certainty that it is in fact possible to be embarrassed, to make huge dumbass mistakes, to feel like shit, and yet stay sober.  Experience has taught me as much. I’m grateful for that too.

The boy’s fine now. He’d been hounding me for a Nintendo Switch for months on end. “All of my friends have one”  Good for your friends. You don’t. He does now. Good parenting or not I could care less. He got screwed out of a trip to California because of my dumbass mistake. Not checking the expiration date. I swear there are times I’m amazed I haven’t won a Darwin award! But all’s well now. Early Christmas present in hand he’s happy as ever with how things turned out.

The little girl child was far easier to break the bad news to and console. When I told her it’ll be a few months instead of days till we go to America she was distressed for all of thirty seconds till getting distracted. Four year olds are easy to distract. “Squirrel!”

And me? Well I actually laughed about it this morning. My wife’s seen me go through it 100 times. For reasons I’ll never know she stuck it out with me after I returned to life from the relapse to end all relapses some 5,169 days ago. She has her own way of dealing with me that seems to work. After 15 years of marriage she seems to know when I’m coming out of a funk before I do even. She must’ve sensed it this morning. She made some wise crack about me not being able to go to the store because my passport’s expired. I told her I was gonna kick her ass. We’re good. 

The appointment is made I’m off to the US Embassy in Tokyo to renew the passport next week. I’m still not much looking forward to telling all my students about the trip that wasn’t but know deep down it’ll be good for keeping my overactive ego down to its right size. And California? Well it’s been four and a half years since I was last there so guess a few more months won’t kill me.  I’ll show up sober and probably even happy with a valid passport in hand. I wonder if my brother will still be waiting to pick me up at the airport?