Memories

My parents were separated for months. It was the hardest time of my life. But that’s another story for another time. The earliest memory I have is when I was very young before I even started school. My mom and I were laying down just relaxing. At least what I thought relaxing was at that age. We woke up from a nap I think. But anyways we thought it would be funny to knock on the wall. So we do. Downstairs I hear my dad open the door. We giggle to ourselves. We hear the door close, and knock again. We hear his footsteps race across the floor to open the back door I imagine. He comes up and talks to my mom. Then we reveal we’re the knockers. We all laughed. 

That one memory is what kept me going. With the hope that their love and marriage vows were strong enough last the stupidest jokes and they would survive this. Although I could have turned to acting out. Getting into trouble when they separated. But I decided why should I ruin my life for their decision to destroy my happiness like other kids might do. At least thats how it seemed to me. that they were trying to make me unhappy. 

I’ll just make my own happiness. 

My real friends were there for me, it was a chance to see who’d be there for me. Though the experience is nothing I would wish on a person I learned a lot from it. One don’t piss of my mom. She knows who she is and fights for it. She’s independent. I can only hope to be half the woman she is. 

Two my dad will always be there for me...in his own way. He'd never really been all that good at the whole father thing. It wasn't his fault it's just how he was brought up. He didn't know any better. But the happy days were never forgotten. Days like those gave me hope and although it did not change anything, during those days I felt like I accomplished something. Maybe a few more days of them together. Or that was just my childlike way of coping. But either way memories such as that one have stuck with me for years. 

This had been a mark on me and it definitely changed me.