I was always never asked to go on family outings when I was a child, whether on a picnic or a trip of town, because I used to get terribly carsick. It was a bother for everybody else to have me along as at some point, despite the carsickness tablets, the plastic bags always handy and the occasional stopping of the car while I threw up and emptied my stomach at the side of the road, having me around in the car with my pale face and tortured expression somehow made the trip less fun for others.
Hence, while all the other children (namely my older sister and two cousins) would pack into the back of the American made Volkswagen with its left steering-wheel and flower power car stickers on the doors, chattering with excitement and so looking forward to going wherever it was my mother decided to take them to (my mother was the family driver), I would be either left behind or dropped back home (if I was in the car already) - waving goodbye, forcing a smile, pretending I was not disappointed or did not feel unwanted or left out.
One of life’s many blessings that I cherish are those moments when I am alone – not lonely, but alone – when I don’t have to meet people or engage in any conversation whether with friends, acquaintances or strangers: In other words, those rare precious times when I am truly left to my own device.
