It was Sunday morning. This morning was going to be different. She had enough.
Her heart beat heavily as she marched to the station wagon in her driveway. A man rolled down the window, it was her dad.
"You don't get to tell me I can't go away for the weekend with my friend because Sunday's are your day. It's not fair! And I don't want to see you today."
Caught up in her anger she ran back into the house...her house. The home her father never lived in....it wasn't big like the last house. The linoleum in the kitchen was so filthy they had to get on their hands and knees and scrub it clean. Her wicker bedroom furniture barely fit into the room that was half the size of her last room...but her mom let her get the yellow blinds (even though they looked funny from the outside of the house looking in).
The first couple of weeks he tried to get her to come along. He'd sit and wait a few minutes in the car before driving away. He never came to the door of her home. He couldn't. Her mom wouldn't have it, she was too wounded by the divorce. Each week she'd tell herself, "Better to stay home, mom might need me."
A month of Sunday's went by and she still refused to spend them with her father. Her older sister and younger brother still went with him. After a while, nobody talked about it. She was 12. She really didn't know what she wanted, she just knew everything hurt...so Sunday after Sunday she'd watch as her dad drove her brother and sister away for the day. They'd come home later that night, just in time to get ready for bed and school the next day.
Some might say she was lucky to have her mom to herself for one day each week, but she really didn't...have her, that is. Her mom was in survival mode back then and would often re-hash and re-live the betrayal. That was all her mom thought she had.
At 12 it was like she, herself, was going through a divorce...so on Sundays she'd sit there with the adults and hear about adult things that she couldn't understand. Her mom was so hurt she couldn't muster a word of encouragement to her about repairing her relationship with her dad. After all, her actions were, in a twisted way, an affirmation that her mom had been wronged in her marriage, she needed her to defy her father ...it was as if her mom drew strength from her backbone.
This is really well written. I was enthralled.
ReplyDeleteWow...I'm anxious to hear part 2.
ReplyDeleteAn unexpected pleasure... also waiting for part two :)
ReplyDeleteHoly cow! The passion and depth of this post is amazing. I hope you'll put up the next section soon.
ReplyDeleteSteph, this made me tear up. This is why I try so hard to not let my personal feelings for my ex interfere with her relationship with him. Yes he is an ass-hat, but he is still her dad. Big hugs to you my Sweet!
ReplyDeleteVery well written and powerful too! : )
ReplyDeleteI went through this before (3 times!). I can only shake my head...and press down the emotions as hard as I can...before they, yet again, seep out of my eyes. Thanks for sharing (sincerely).
ReplyDeleteDean
http://leftcoastguy.com
Some strong emotions in there.
ReplyDeleteYou are very pretty and a very good writer. Looking forward to part 2!
ReplyDeleteLOVE THIS.
ReplyDeleteHonest. Real. And True.
Makes me think of my own divorce and the kids.
Can't wait for part 2.
Nicely written. I had to go through this with Meg. It was so hard making her go when she hated her dads guts.. After years of pushing though she is starting to accept that he is who he is and she talks to him a little, But there was a time when the yelling at him that she hated him and never wanted to see him was a constant battle.
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