lasting memories

Every Tuesday and Thursday I wait for the sound of your old car rumble down my street. This meant you were here to visit me and take me out for the day. This was back when I was young and planned visits with you still existed in my life. Now I am older and don’t need your company. Sometimes on those lone days I stare out the window and wait for nothing and remember childhood memories with you. We often went to toy stores and you would buy me anything I wanted, I now realize that this was selfish of me since you had a low paying job and two other kids.
Those two other kids and I where the five year olds that you left in a wagon in the park one night. That night I lay in the cool grass with my brother and my sister not knowing if you would come get us or if someone else would take us away before you remembered. Long after the sun set and the stars came out to keep us company you came stumbling along beer in hand. We all got in the wagon and you towed us away without a word. We’ve never talked about this night, I don’t think anyone remembers or would believe me if I told them.
After some time, when you could truly be trusted with me, I would stay with your family and eat jello powder and stale bread for dinner, but I never told my mother about this. Your house was always really warm and like paved streets you could she the heat waves rise from the musty furniture. This heat stung my nose with the smell of beer and rotting food. Stains and cigarette butts littered the carpet I sat upon as I watched the only channel on our bunny eared TV.
Many a time I would try and build something out of the garbage and clutter on the coffee table beer caps, cigarette boxes, bits of string and cans. I did this in hopes that you would pay attention to the voiceless creature that I had become. It never worked. You were always too busy to sit with your me, so I sat lonely in your crowded living room.
Kids filled the house, my brother and sister so skinny you could see there bones sticking out under their clothes from having nothing good to eat. They sat there eating freezes from the local store as I sat at the kitchen table mute. You sat with them eating a white freeze getting annoyed at the small children.
As the night went on your music seemed to grow louder. The smoke filled the room with a cloud so intoxicating even to look at and it started to become harder to breath. I would curl up on the couch unable to sleep but desperate to close my dry eyes. I was only 10 but no longer could I shed tears for you, you had bleed the wells dry to a point of no return. Some time in the night the fight would start, slow at first but like a forest fire grow into something unmanageable. This created a rumbling in my heart matching the rumbling in my stomach, you would throw things at each other and when the glass shattered so did my love for you. When the filthy clock on the microwave hit 4:30 am, the fire would slowly burn out sending ashes to fall to the ground creating a thin layer of peace at last.
You would sit in solitude at the kitchen table and drink beer. I get a knot in my stomach as your head hits the table when you pass out, beer spilling on the floor. Minutes pass by as I decide to clean the beer and take your pulse. My grade four-health teacher taught me how to take a pulse this year. I am very grateful of her because now I know when you are alive and when you are dead. I grab your hand and we stumble to the couch where you take my place to sleep, but I don’t mind, I never sleep around you, I just keep taking your pulse.
Now you are too far away to take your pulse and at any given moment you could be dead and often there are close calls where I get woken up to the sad old voice of my grandfather on the telephone explaining the past events. It’s moments like these that I don’t think you realize that you have a daughter, a daughter filled with these memories and one day there will be no more new memories of you. I will be a full cup and you will be dead.
I don’t visit you in the hospital, I don’t know if you expect me to but I don’t want to see you broken face lie to me anymore. One day you will limp too far and your crutches will break and I wont be there to take your hand and lay you down to sleep.