Walks to the park and trying to remember things about my dad when I was a kid.

I put Fiona in the carrier on the walk down to the park this morning. I held Jack’s hand as he traversed the curbs, picked up handfuls of wood chips, and finally when my most patient self ran out of patience I picked Jack up, feeling equal weight on my back and front sides. I imagined myself living in a time or place where this would be the common way women carried children. I’m racking my mind trying to remember my dad in my life as a child. I can only come up with moments, dark moments, blurry moments. Once sitting at a round damp wood table on a chair that seemed like it would be in a bar. My dad was talking to a private detective who wore a check shirt and had squinty eyes. He told my dad about the roaches that were found in my dad’s stolen truck. I said, “Gross, why were there roaches in his truck?” I imagined inside his camper shell being covered with roaches and old food. The detective said “No, not those kind of roaches.” I was then given an explanation of the type of roaches they were, not really understanding, I must have been about eight. I remember the Louis Lamour paperbacks I would find in the mailbox with a note attached, “Jen” on the nights my dad was supposed to pick us up. When he didn’t show for over an hour my mom broke down and took me and Danny out for spaghetti and ice cream. Did he expect us to just wait around for him? Danny is on his way up to Reno right now to see my Dad get honored in the weight loss competition tonight. Then Sunday he is driving Betty and my dad down here. They will stay in a motel for the first five nights, then with us Friday to Monday. It’s gonna be a freak show. They stay up at night fiddling around and sleep during most of the morning. He’s my dad. With his grunting and consistent lateness. I wonder what Jack and Fiona will think of them? On our way back from the park I tried to let both babies walk back up the hill, but Jack sat down and cried because he didn’t want to leave the park. I put him in the carrier and let Fiona walk. She made it the whole way up the hill. She picked up a tiny arbutus flower, touched the different grasses, and pet our neighbors dog Kirby. It must have seemed like a great adventure to them. When we got back to the house they relaxed and looked at books, had a snack of avocado, pear and cheese, and are now taking a nap. I wonder if they are dreaming.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

About Dirty Laundry Blog

Thoughts on Motherhood Through the Eyes of an Artist