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Monday, July 28, 2008

Bowled Over

When he told me he was leaving which meant not coming back, I was floored. I thought I was reason enough for frequent visits, drop-ins, and I would just go catatonic on purpose to exaggerate my shock and surprise that he was around. But at that moment, I felt only a tingle in my toes from kicking the carpet barefooted and an incessant blinking to precede the incessant sobbing.

He never did come home much. In my mind, he was always lurking in the darkness somewhere. To my friends, he was a businessman abroad or member of a traveling circus. He used to answer the phone a lot, they’d mention, but why not so much anymore? Queue in the blinking.

When I found out he had taken someone else bowling, I threw up. Maybe on purpose. He never took me bowling. In fact, I never knew he bowled. I thought that all this time, he was performing with his traveling circus somewhere in the Appalachians. Did I kick him or scream at him or throw things around my room? No. I should have because maybe he would have stayed longer because he owed me that much. I should have because he deserved it. Why didn’t you teach me how to bowl because I really suck at bowling?

Recently, I saw my dad and he’s still standing upright (thank God) and his skin’s sagging prematurely in all the right places. He’s visibly missing a tooth. He’s a lot shorter than the businessman in my memories, but still handsome in his own right. He must hate looking at old photographs because he was really handsome then. Mom, I know why you did it! I am young and foolish sometimes too!

Father-daughter-speak between us is often contrived. You want me to be 10 again, don’t you? And I indulge him. We pretend that no time has lapsed, that he was at my first dance, at my graduation, my birthday parties. You’ve always been a horrible driver. It’s like he’s been in my car more than a handful of times. I heard about your tattoo and I’m going to get over it. Like he actually was upset. It felt so much more non-fiction when my mom said it.

We parted ways with hugs and idealistic aspirations to hang out more. I think I really wanted to at the time. I really believed that we would.

2 comments:

andy said...

Hey Diane,

Not sure if you recognize me from any of my comments over the last month (the California DJ guy). I’ve been digging your blog, particularly the video posts which I had commented on. I am assembling a short list of savvy bloggers with consistently interesting posts in preparation of the launch of my company’s site Redux, and of the thousands of sites I've come across, yours is one of the few I am reaching out to. The concept of Redux is to help people discover interesting stuff that’s slightly off the beaten path (not unlike your blog). Naturally, I would love to have you check it out and see if it deserves your attention. Here’s an unique invite code to get in for free:

http://preview.redux.com/invitecode/ayj0028

Hit me up anytime and let me know what you think.

Enjoy,
Andy

P.S. Sorry for posting this as a comment, despite my best efforts I couldn't find a direct contact on your page.

andy said...

Hey Diane.

I noticed that you dropped by Redux. I was just wondering if you had any comments or feedback about what you saw, what you wanted to see, or anything at all. Drop me a link at andy@redux.com and let me know.

Cheers,
Andy

P.S. Sorry once again about the comment post in lieu of direct contact.