Usually when people say ‘I’m sorry’ I flip out. Because they’re not really sorry, they just think they are. But this time I didn’t. Maybe it was because I was finally really starting to be able to deal with it, or maybe it was because I knew she understood. I don’t know.
She came over and looked at the rushing creek and slowly sat down, staring at it.
Her: You know, Dad didn’t used to be like this. He was a really great dad. It wasn’t untill Mom…
She stopped and I sat down next to her. She took a deep breath and continued.
Her: Mom died.
Oh God. Ouch.
Her: Dad got screwed up after that. Right after the funeral he told me we were moving. I didn’t get it then. I couldn’t understand why he wanted to mess up my life even more. But he just really needed to get away. We went to Germany and spent the entire summer there. That’s where Dad started drinking. When we came back, we didn’t go home, in Pennsylvania, we went to California. And I started to try to start over. But in a year, we were moving again.