Prompt for May 18th: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.
Sometimes transparency is a good thing. I don't do this often - become transparent in my writing, but for a few days (when I realized what today's prompt was), I contemplated opening my heart. Digging deep for a not so fond memory. Pouring out all my emotion on to this post. If you are reading this, then I have crossed that bridge. I have decided to post it. Please be careful when you read it. I have decided to shed a new light on a piece of my childhood, that to this day is tender.
I don't remember the day of the week or really what month it was, I just remember it was dark. I was in the seventh grade, my brother in the fourth (I think). Mom and Dad wanted to talk. We all sat in their room and the conversation started. I am not sure who spoke first, but they both said these words... "We love you both..." "This is not happening because either one of you did something..." "We have decided to separate."
In that first instant of shock, I am not sure what I said, if anything. I did a lot of thinking though. How could they do this to us? This was not my plan for our family. I didn't know there was anything wrong. Separate? Who is leaving? Where will Daddy stay?
Most of these questions were answered for us in the progression of the conversation. Tears were shed. My home was now going to be "broken". I vividly remember going to school the next day and sharing with my very best friend what was happening. Hoping that I was in a dream. Hoping that they could mend fences.
They didn't. However, for the sake of me and my brother, they did promise to remain friends and on good terms. They would not make this a huge battle between the both of them - the repercussions of that seemed to be much harsher.
My daddy moved out and then we began living at 2 houses. Mom's house during the week and Daddy's every other weekend. I remember really cherishing the times that I had with my Dad. Riding in his Jeep with the top down on warm summer afternoons. Smelling the leaves burning in the evenings. Going fishing in a friends pond. Cutting the grass and washing the Jeep. Staying in his two story mobile home that only had one step (it was in the door way of the kitchen and living room). That was a big joke between the three of us. Moments that I will cherish forever.
As time moved on, the relationship between my dad and I gained some distance. My dad remarried shortly after my parents' divorce was final and I gained a step-mom and brother. Don't get me wrong, they are wonderful people. I love them both, but it was a hard adjustment. I am not sure when it happened, but we eventually stopped going to dad's every other weekend, which made the distance in our relationship that much wider.
As I type this, I never realized how much it hurts to say Daddy. I know that man loves me more that life itself and would give his own life for me but I wish so badly that our relationship was so much better. Much deeper that him just being my "father". That innocent Daddy/Daughter relationship. Not one filled with pain, hurt, distance, or separation.
Do I blame my dad? No, I don't think so. I just miss him. I want to be able to talk to him like I talk to my mom. Yell and scream and cry with him when things aren't going right, like I do with my mom. Have light hearted talks or deep discussions about scripture, like I do with my mom. I don't want to have to crave his attention anymore. Cry myself to sleep because I just want a hug from my Daddy.
The day will come, very soon, when I will sit down with him and talk. I want to talk all of this out. Tell him that I forgive him. This day should have already come but one trait that he passed to me is the fear of confrontation and wanting to make sure every. single. word. is right before I say it.
Daddy, if you are reading this, I love you. The time will come when I am totally ready to talk and I will let you know when that time is. Typing all of this is helping. Just be patient with me.
Mom, I love you too.