First thoughts, ugh… He actually came. Second thoughts, wow… He actually came…
My parents seperated somewhere around the summer of 2009 and since then we haven’t
seen our father much. We’re under the custody of my mother. By we, I mean me, (Melanie),
Ashlyn, Leah, and Kayla–my sisters. I’m the oldest.
We were suppose to get together with my dad a couple of times but it was either, "I got class," or
"My car got stuck," etc. The last time we were suppose to get together was on a saturday. We waited
a whole day for him to come and pick us up from my aunt’s. My mom dropped us off there because
she didn’t want to see him. Childish, I know. I mean, aren’t WE suppose to not want to see our dad?
Anyways, we spent all day at our aunt’s house, waiting for my dad to come pick us up, but that
didn’t happen. Around 6pm, my mom texted me (yay for technology!!) and soon after she came to
pick us back up.
For Ashlyn and me, it was a chance for my dad to redeem himself. From what? From being our father.
Leah and Kayla were/are too young to understand, granted, they’re eight and nine years old, but they didn’t
understand that our dad, wasn’t our dad anymore. His excuse this time, his car got stuck. It didn’t matter
if it was true or not, all that matters was that he didn’t have the decency to tell us before we waited
twelve hours.
This time though, he came. He picked us up from school and it was constant texting to and from my mom.
"Did he come yet? Did he pick you up? Where are you guys going?"
That plus that awkward silence and attempt for small talk, was how the car ride went. We were suppose to
go bowling, something our family use to do as a whole family. It was almost like a tradition. Instead, we went
our to eat at King’s Buffet in Brooklyn Center. It wasn’t bad, that was tradition too. Our family use to always
go out to eat/celebrate at King’s Buffet.
The ride, the small talk, the eating, and then the ride back. We spent an hour and a half with my dad.
Throughout the whole time, it felt like my heart was just waiting for something to happen. Something bad.
On the ride home, while dropping Kayla off at my grandma’s, it happened. My dad took out his phone and showed
us a picture of his new girlfriend.
"I’m not dating anyone, she’s just a girl I talk to." He showed us another picture. "Oh, she’s just a friend. She’s just
someone I talk to when I don’t want to think about your mommy. I tell them I care for them, but I don’t. I just tell them
so that I’ll forget about mommy."
Wow… Really? In front of your eight and nine year olds? In front of your just turned thirteen year old who admires and
looks up to you? In front of your fifteen year old, who’s losing respect for you already? Plus, what a great example.
Lying to those poor, innocent girls, who don’t even look older than twenty. I’m not suppose to judge, but how can
I not? How can I not judge after everything that had happened? After the events that had affected my life?
It was because of things like this that made my mom realise it was time to move on.
Despite the incident however, despite the short amount of time, my sisters and I were incredibly happy that we
were able to spend time with him, with our dad. Next time, rides at the Mall Of America? I wonder if he’ll come…