Wednesday, March 24, 2010
One Hundred Million Years Later
Fathers often leave children behind. It's not extraordinary. Mine had good reasons to miss pasty fathers day cards and going to horrible, ear piercing talent shows.
*He drank a lot.
*He loved us too much.
*People he loved left him, so it was easier for him to leave people he loved.
*Oh, and it was cold here. So cold. My father has sunshine in his bones.
I'm sure it was horrible. I'm sure his own crazies told him to gogogogogogogogogoggo before the love inside him blew him up into a million pieces. It must have felt like cement in his ventricles.
And in reality? I liked that he was gone. I had my beautiful mother all to myself. I took good care of her. Better than he ever did. He made her cry. I made her laugh. Simple math.
But sometimes when I watch my little girls sleep on the broad surface of my husband's chest, their growing arms lanky like willow limbs draped across... I want to scream. And get in my car. And drive far away fast.
Just like him.