Chunks of Time

There are pieces I remember, and pieces I don't. I'm not sure if my 3-year stint with pot evaporated enough brain cells to erase some memories from my mind, or if I just chose not to hang on to those particular memories.

Here's what I do remember: Memorial Day, circa 1986. Driving to Mountain Shadow Lakes - a man-made lake in Horizon City, Texas. Giant dragonflies that I desperately swatted at. Hot-air balloons. Tension in the air. One minute, my dad was with us all. The next, he was gone. We solemnly made our way home from the man-made lake several hours later and I knew I was supposed to be sad, I just didn't know why.

Within hours of arriving at our house, drama ensued. My mom's sister arrived, my mom cried, my sister listened to their conversation. My mom and aunt sped away and were gone for hours. When they got home, they brought a locksmith with them.

"I saw you," my mom said in Spanish into the phone. "I saw you."

My dad no longer lived at home.

--

We drove to the church, actually it was a monastery, and asked for one of the nuns. We sat with her and my mom lowered her head and sobbed loudly as I sat in her lap. When she wept, she made soft, low sounds with her voice. They sounded painful and uncomfortable. It always made me want to tell her to stop.

When the crying subsided, my mom said gently, "Tell her. Tell her how you feel." I wanted to make my mom proud, and say something dramatic and heartbreaking, but I felt nothing. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be feeling, and honestly, I just wanted to get out of there and get back to playing or watching TV. Anything but this.

"I'm sad," I said.

"Well you're going to have to tell your dad. Tell him what he's doing to you. Tell him how angry you are for ripping this family apart, for not loving us enough to stay. You have to tell him."

I wasn't angry. I didn't feel like my dad didn't love me. I was mad at my mom for making me sit there and have this ridiculous conversation with a stranger.

On the ride home, she said, "Tell me what you're going to tell him." So I lied.