Loss of a father, smurfs, alphabet soup, angels |
My mom woke me up early. I couldn’t tell the exact time, I was only four. She grabbed my baby brother Josh, and we walked across dewy grass in between houses until we got to Steve and Della’s door. Mom knocked, Della opened. Mom handed Josh to Della and then she was gone. Della told me to lay down and go back to sleep but I couldn’t. Josh started to cry, the carpet made me itch and squirm. I pretended to sleep but I couldn’t keep my eyes closed. The next morning I peeled my chaffed face off the floor, and I looked around. Still no Mom, still no Dad. Neither of them came to get us that day. First, I didn’t understand why. Yesterday was a completely normal day. Dad went to work. We went to bed. The only difference is that Mom left shortly after Dad did. Which really didn’t make sense. Dad worked the night shift and mom usually went to bed with us. Why did she leave? Eventually Mom returned. She changed in the last two days. Her face looked older and her eyes looked tired when she walked through the door. She knelt down to give me a hug, and burst tears, she wrapped her arms around me and told me, “He’s not coming back, daddy’s gone.” I asked where he went. She told me there was an accident and daddy went to heaven, to live with God and his angels. I don’t remember if I cried. I don’t remember anything past that, except for the day of the funeral. Mom thought I was too young to go, too young to understand. Chances are that I wouldn’t have understood what went on that day. I was left with family friends, friends I had never met before. They were old, gramma and grampa’s age. The old woman fed me vegetable soup full of alphabet noodles. I was excited because I knew the alphabet quite well, Daddy had taught me the A B C’s with a song. She tried to get me to sing the song, but I didn’t want to. Instead I spelled my name with letters and watched cartoons. I don’t remember the old people’s faces. I certainly don’t remember their names. I remember that the Smurfs were on tv, there were letters in my soup and that daddy went to live with the angels. |