When was the last time I said how lucky I am - because I do feel that way. I am a lucky chick - a great job, a healthy family, a warm house - I do not have many complaints.
So it is strange to me when I find the memories coming back. Why? Why now? They did once before - came back in torrents. They are not making me sad, just flooding my head, and then the truth spills out here - because it has to go somewhere.
The worst day ever was the day that daddy believed her. It only happened once. It only lasted for minutes, seconds maybe, but when I didn't even cry and I just looked at him, him with a belt in his hand, and there were no tears on my face, he knew. When I just looked with hollow eyes at this person where my daddy used to live, the daddy I hadn't really seen for a year and a half, he saw the truth inside of me.
He dropped to his knees and hugged me hard, but my arms were down, and I did not even look at him. I just looked around the kitchen the living room like I did not even know where I was, like waking up from a dream. I think he said he was sorry, but all I remember is seeing Crazy standing in the doorway, her eyes narrow at me, Gina behind her, rolling her eyes.
And after that day, it started to crumble apart - like a stone wall collapsing, big chunks of rock falling away, and nobody ever bothering to look at the pieces, just running to escape, because there is no place to hide.
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Stuff I Secretly Love
- That blueberry baby food
- Water parks
- Riding trains
- Climbing trees
- Campfires
- Macaroni and Cheese
- Port Hueneme, California
- Donny Osmond
- Airports
- The BeeGees
- Hoodies
- the Jackson 5
- Dragonflies
- Bubble Yum
- The Smell of Chlorine
- Bare Feet
- Harry Potter
- Reality TV
1 comment:
Memories are a funny thing, who knows what triggers them, but they are still there. I find myself having days where some really bad, bad memories of growing up come back to me, and I need to get them out too. I think it is great you started this blog, just for that purpose. I often think about starting one that is just for that too. Does that make sense? Anyway, my point being, it is so good to get the memories out, to write about them. I am always so impressed with how much you remember, how much detail you remember. You really write so well and have such great detail, and what happened to you....you should write a book..Seriously.
I think having your father not believe you, even for a second, must have been taken the last bit of hope,you were clinging to, out of your little body. I am so glad, he looked into your eyes and knew. The eyes always know, what a wise man. I love how he hugged you, to the seething anger of Crazy and little Crazy (although I am sure there was a price to pay). The connection was not broken, even thou for a brief moment it was threatened, Crazy almost got to him...but didn't. He looked in your eyes and knew. That is very powerful.
XOXO
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