17 years have gone by and i still think about it quite a bit, that day and the days that followed it, the years that followed it and though the saying goes time heals all wounds i think it's more that time just dulls the pain and we learn to live with it, that day was January 3, 1992, the time was 7:04 pm. I had walked into the basement to see if we were going to order a pizza or something cuz a girl was coming to pick me up and take me out, a new girlfriend to be exact and i was hoping to expedite the process of getting fed, all of 20 years old, home on x-mas break, one of the rare times i had been home since i left for Wyoming at the ripe old age of 17...
I remember the look of my parents, my mother in a yellow robe, nervous and glassy eyed and i remember the look of my father, for the first time in my life he looked scared, defeated, confused, he looked at a loss and as they told me to go upstairs and order i had a very uneasy feeling, a feeling that everything was fucked, a feeling i'd first gotten at Thanksgiving were i looked around my house and felt as if i was looking at strangers, on that day i had grabbed my notebook and made for the patch of woods behind my house as my sister made some sort of disparaging remark about not be able to take the living conditions, had i not been so out of sorts i'm sure i would've told her to shut the fuck up and move out and mentioned the fact that at 26 she should be capable of living on her own but instead i ran for some solitude, years later i would find that notebook and read what i wrote, the first line being "i saw my family disintegrate right in front of my eyes"...
When my mother and father came upstairs my dad called us into the kitchen and said they had something to tell us, this in itself was strange cuz we didn't have these little family meetings and the last time i had seen my father look like this was when he sat me down to tell me my grandfather, his father, had died, only today he looked a bit worse and the old man not being one to mince words just let it fly, this family was officially dissolved, they were getting a divorce and that was all they had to say in the matter, my sister immediately flew off the handle and started screaming at our mother that this was just another way of her trying to fuck up her life, sis had planned to get married in the next year or two and of course this would throw a monkey wrench into all of it, my mother sat and whimpered that she didn't want us to hate her and then retired to her her room, i was leaning up against the counter and basically went numb, i just looked at my dad who was looking at me, my mouth open but nothing coming out, i can tell you that the living room lights were off and the dining room lights were off and the two kitchen lights were on and it was 7:04 pm on a friday night "i was born here and i was raised here and i took some stick here"...
I sorta stumbled around from there, went to my room to change my clothes, my mom stopping in to once again lobby for me not to hate her and i told i didn't but really didn't understand why i should, there weren't many details given and as she sat there crying i saw my dad go into my sister's room and heard her screaming about that bitch and how she fucked up his life and hers and how all she was worried about was her precious son, of course i hadn't really lived there and wasn't privy to the skirmishes that would lead to the battles that would lead to the war, i was still trying to wrap my head around what i was just told and what it meant and reassure this woman in front of me that i was okay and asked if she was okay and when she said she was she rose, went to her room and locked the door, my father was still trying to calm my sister down, his firstborn, his baby girl, the only time i could really truly piss off my dad was when i had a go at his daughter, we were six years apart and for years the girl resented me, was of the opinion that her mother favored me and for all i know she may have, mom's dad always wanted a son, she was named after him and he had 3 daughters who all had baby girls until i came bouncing along and yes over the years i knew i could work mom over pretty good for whatever i wanted but having not been around much for the last three i had grown up fast and didn't rely on anybody for much anymore...
i put on a clean shirt and walked to the front porch and waited for the girlfriend to show up, i didn't say goodbye, i sat and listened to the traffic from the main road and watched my breath in front of me and it wasn't til i sat in her front seat and told her what had just happened that i began to cry like a fucking baby, that maybe what i had just heard and felt and seen began to sink in, we drove around and i drank beer in her car which she bought for me and then we went to a movie which i don't remember, i mainly remember tears rolling down my face the whole time, when it was over i sat against a cement pole in a strip mall drinking beer and smoking a cigarette and then i told her i needed to go home, somehow it was after midnight and the house was dark, she cranked up the heat and dragged me into the back seat and proceeded to fuck me and for a bit i almost forgot but then it was over and i crawled out of the backseat of her Mercury Cougar and watched her pull away, i stood for a long time looking at the house and it didn't seem like a home anymore... i am moving house, a half life disappears today.
I opened the door and walked into the kitchen and saw my dad sitting on the couch in the dark, we hadn't talked since he told us and he got up and walked toward me, i stood in the kitchen, head down while my mind buzzed, i gave him a hug and as my voiced cracked with sadness said, I don't understand, he looked at me and said son, neither do i.
6 comments:
ouch. just ouch...
wow... that's very moving.....
Whoa.
I know some people in not so happy marriages, who are fond of saying: "We'll wait to get divorced, till the kids are older.". This piece made me want to cry for all of them.
(really good post, though)
aahhhh crap...!
i am truly sorry. happy mother's day....right?
if i didn't know any better....i'd swear this was from a page of "the perks of being a wallflower". ...are you stephen chbosky?
wasn't the best day of my life but years later i'm a bit more objective, pt. 2 will probably be posted sometime in the near future, thanks for the comments everyone.
Wow. really touching story. The last line is what hits. Nursemyra sent me your way as I just posted my divorce story. Yours is much different as mine happened at 6 and so I was just trying to piece together scraps of memory, but yours is more vivid with details. I don't know about you, but mine was hard to write.
Post a Comment