Lesson Learned
When I was two my parents got divorced, before I ever knew what it was like to have both of them living together. As expected, both my parents started to date a few years after they split up. I didn’t know or care about them at the time; all my memories from my pre-kindergarten years are a fuzzy, diluted existence of doing art work and switching houses (and parent) every few days.
But, as I got older my parents met significant others, my mom dated a man called Karl, who, she eventually married when I was 11. But, on the other hand, or should I say the other house, my dad had a few girlfriends over the next few years (at least that I knew of). When I was about five, he started to go out with Evie, then while I was six, he met …show more content…
During this time, my dad and I were living in a small two-bedroom apartment that I loved; we had a small array of potted plants and vegetables, kids lived all around us, I learned to ride my “big-girl” bike there, but most of all I spent all my dad, who I love and respect more than anyone. But as all things do, that changed; my dad came home from his work (I rode the school bus home), and he asked if we could talk, I was confused as to what could be so serious for him to look so …show more content…
Before my dad threw out our hard work; in the form of our mini garden, I frantically planted the broccoli in the grass outside my home, my ex-home that is. At the time it was the only thing I could do to leave some part of me at the place I loved. Although irrational, I still hope, to this day, that those little broccoli plants are alive and thriving in the old grass field. That was the last memory I had at our apartment and it has stuck in my mind since. We had been living at Jen’s house for a while and I started to get more and more depressed as the days passed. I wasn’t allowed to paint my room’s ceiling as “it would look like a fish bowl”, we ate different foods, Lily ignored me after a while to involve with her television shows to care, and Jen controlled everything from the living room rug to Christmas to my birthday. In my mind it was Jen and Dad now, forget dad and me. I felt completely alone, and lied to him every time he asked if I was “okay”.
It was a few months before I told him how I really felt, the conversation went something like
When I was two my parents got divorced, before I ever knew what it was like to have both of them living together. As expected, both my parents started to date a few years after they split up. I didn’t know or care about them at the time; all my memories from my pre-kindergarten years are a fuzzy, diluted existence of doing art work and switching houses (and parent) every few days.
But, as I got older my parents met significant others, my mom dated a man called Karl, who, she eventually married when I was 11. But, on the other hand, or should I say the other house, my dad had a few girlfriends over the next few years (at least that I knew of). When I was about five, he started to go out with Evie, then while I was six, he met …show more content…
During this time, my dad and I were living in a small two-bedroom apartment that I loved; we had a small array of potted plants and vegetables, kids lived all around us, I learned to ride my “big-girl” bike there, but most of all I spent all my dad, who I love and respect more than anyone. But as all things do, that changed; my dad came home from his work (I rode the school bus home), and he asked if we could talk, I was confused as to what could be so serious for him to look so …show more content…
Before my dad threw out our hard work; in the form of our mini garden, I frantically planted the broccoli in the grass outside my home, my ex-home that is. At the time it was the only thing I could do to leave some part of me at the place I loved. Although irrational, I still hope, to this day, that those little broccoli plants are alive and thriving in the old grass field. That was the last memory I had at our apartment and it has stuck in my mind since. We had been living at Jen’s house for a while and I started to get more and more depressed as the days passed. I wasn’t allowed to paint my room’s ceiling as “it would look like a fish bowl”, we ate different foods, Lily ignored me after a while to involve with her television shows to care, and Jen controlled everything from the living room rug to Christmas to my birthday. In my mind it was Jen and Dad now, forget dad and me. I felt completely alone, and lied to him every time he asked if I was “okay”.
It was a few months before I told him how I really felt, the conversation went something like