I was in the garage, packing up some of the things that had gone by the wayside in all the rush of my big move. There, in the middle of the day, in the middle of my garage, with the door wide open...I found a box of Becky's things. All from the time after Samantha had joined us. All mementos of happier and yet sadder times.
Standing there I froze...unable to do anything with that box. I thought I had gotten rid of all that type of stuff. Now, looking through it all, my pains were brought back to life and stabbing me in the face.
Finally I moved...setting the box back down on some other boxes stacked everywhere. Sitting down on one, I began to purposely go through that box...digging into my recent past. A small book of pictures fell out to one side, and I picked it up. There we were...at the beach...in the park...in the back yard having a barbecue with the kids. Memories cascading past me, not letting me loose. I soon found myself crying.
I cried for what I had lost in Becky's passing. I cried for losing Samantha, and I cried for losing my kids respect. I think I was crying for not only my loss, but what I had so stupidly shoved away too. I couldn't see any way back to those happier days...and now...seeing those days in front of me just was too much to handle.
I didn't hear them come up from behind me. I felt like a foolish man sitting there in tears...caught being sentimental like that.
"So...moving somewhere are you?"
I knew the voice...it was my daughter.
"Hi. Yeah...I'm moving. I left a message on your answering machine...not sure if you got it or not."
I kept my back to them.
"You packed rather quickly Dad."
I hadn't turned around yet...trying to get my eyes dry and myself more composed before I did so.
Looking at the picture of Samantha and I and Becky in our backyard I realized that not only was I a miserable man, I had made my family miserable too.
Turning I found all my kids standing there, with their spouses. Not only them, but Susan and Samantha as well.
"What?"
It was all I could think of to say.
"Where you moving to dad?"
My oldest son...always the pragmatic one, accepting a fact and then moving from that.
"Got a place all lined up. Smaller...less for me to take care of."
"Got room for two in that place?"
Samantha had spoken softly, yet her voice seemed to cut right through to the core of my being.
"Not sure anybody would want to live there with me."
"You never know about that."
My daughter spoke into the void that statement from Samantha left.
"You kind of dropped out of sight dad."
"I dropped from sight? You guys dropped out of sight."
"Well, you were being kind of an ass dad. What did you expect?"
"I thought that you would at least come over and still talk to me. Instead, you...my family...push me aside. At least, that's how it felt to me."
"So...where's this new place at dad?"
Again, my oldest son. There was something up here that I didn't know if I wanted to see. I was tired and just wanting this moving crap done with. I had packed all of it myself. Every little item. Some boxes were marked for giving to thrift stores; some marked for a garage sale...should I ever get around to having one. A very precious few were marked for keeping.
Susan stood back a ways, then suddenly bulled ahead of everyone. She looked angry...pissed off angry. Real pissed off angry.
"What the hell? Cutting and running huh? Figured you'd try something like that. I've been keeping an eye on you...when I saw you packing stuff out here I got in touch with everyone. You have some explaining to do buster."
"Nothing to explain. I left a message about what I was up to with my kids...no secrets...just moving."
"That's it huh? Moving away. Running from your troubles."
"Well...lets recap a bit shall we?"
