the girl at the bottom of the glass

chapter 12: goodbye daddy

2010s

TW: grief, loss

(Soundtrack of the chapter - bye bye - Mariah Carey)

I decided to move back to my mother's home after George left. The search for a new apartment with my temp salary was too much work for a girl who had given up in life.

My mother did not ask me many questions.
She was a woman with very few words. The only time she could voice for a long time was when she was fighting with my father.
After he left, she kept working and providing me. They somehow arranged for my college fee.

I stayed in my room all the time. I only went out to buy alcohol.
I was trying to look for some jobs in my town. I was mostly trying to heal myself.

It was then we got the news that my dad had passed. He had moved to another town and got married to a florist. And they had a kid together. I had phone contacts with him on birthdays and holidays but i had never even met them.
When my step mother informed me of the news, I didn't know what to say. I almost said 'sorry for your loss' but then I remembered it was my loss too.

She told me to come. I thought I should go. My mother refused to go with me. She never forgave him for the way he left. He didnt really discuss her with the terms and conditions of custody with me. But I knew since I had seen the way he left, I knew he wanted nothing to do with me.

But now he was dead. I went there by bus. I didnt know how to feel in deed.
The bereaved decided to have a home funeral. I entered the place my father lived in for the past years. The place i had never been. He offered me to spend some holidays but I refused. I did not hate him. I was busy partying all my holidays.

The service was lovely with various kinds of white flowers.
I knew no one there, so I thought to just give my condolences and leave for the early bus home.

I saw the kid first. He was around 5-6 years. He shared our auburn hair and pale skin. he didn't seem to fully grasp the situation. He was sitting on a chair, happily eating cake.

I sat down beside him, "hey, what's your name?"

"Teddy", he didn't take his look away from the cake.

Not only the hair and the skin, he shared the same name with my dad too.

"How old are you teddy"

"I am five", the kid focused on me now, "who are you?"

"I am Vicky"

A woman gasped. I didn't know she was behind me when I was talking to the son.

"Oh, you are Vicky. Hello", she said nervously.

"Hello, Amy", I uttered under my breath.

"I didn't recognize you, you know the hair", she spoke quickly.

Amy was a couple years younger than my dad. She had a short blonde hair and fair facial features. Her eyes were red, and her skin was colourless, compared to the black blouse she wore.

"Come see your dad", she led the way.

The kid followed, "is my dad her dad, too?" He inquired with a little voice.

There he was, lying in a mahogany casket. He looked young, and it was as if he was taking a nap. His face barely showed any wrinkles.

He looked way more peaceful than the person I saved in my memory. Clearly, he had spent his final years surrounded by loved ones and in peace. And a sudden pang of sadness was brought up.

It seemed that the coffin was too small for him. I suddenly wondered if he was feeling entrapped. Like, I should ask for something bigger.

Immediaely I was reminded he couldn't feel anymore. At that moment, I sensed I lost something inside me, a part of me. Something I never knew I needed but I did.

Tears rushed down on my face, all of sudden. Immediately, my throat swelled up and I couldn't even breathe. I covered my mouth with my hand and hurried to sit on a chair.

I was sobbing for some minutes not able to care about anyone else. When I noticed I could breathe again, I pulled my face up and gazed at the casket.

I wondered what he would say if he could just stand up and walk from there.
Would he introduce me to his friends?
Would he like to see me and Teddy become best friends?

A hand fell on my shoulder, I stood up to face the widow. Tears falling down on her cheeks, Amy hugged me.
I did not remember the last time my mother hugged me.
Amy was not 20 years older than me, but at that moment, I felt safe, I felt warm, I felt supported.

We heard a faint whimper, Teddy was on the verge of crying.

I sat down and hugged the little guy. He might not have experienced parental endless fighting like I did, but he became fatherless from now on.

Even at the moment, I knew I would not keep in contact with them after this. We were never a family. And I wasn't sure if I was ever included in a family anyway. Amy looked like a kind and well mannered woman, I was sure he would be safe in the warmth she radiated though.

I dropped by my father's home office. I spotted many photo stands on his desk. One of them included him embracing me on his arm. It was taken when I was about 7 or 8 years old, on a family camping trip. I was innocently smiling in the picture, we looked alike with the same facial structure and messy red hair. There was no traces of his ex wife in the whole house, naturally.
Even though my father was still in almost all of the photos hanging back in our home.

I took out the photo before saying goodbye to his family and leaving the house.

If everything was bleak before, my life took a turn for the worse for sure.

I hit a new low, and I couldn't even be bothered to change my clothes or wash my hair. I stayed at home all day and had a quick run to the liquor store in the dark hours.

Finally my mother stepped into my room which is covered with cigarette litter and empty bottles, she was taken aback.
She instructed me to go check in the local rehab. I was too weary to protest. Her insurance covered my program. So, there was not really a choice for me.

I had undergone the medical assessments, met with my counselor and then I was led to the room I would spend a week in.

I looked around the room. My roommate was lying on the bed. She sat up at the sight of me.

I was holding my toiletries in my hand and an aloof expression on my face.

I stumbled onto my bed, without saying a word. I would be only here for a week, for the alcohol detox program. I just came here to make my mother satisfied and get her off my back.

A week had gone by in the blink of an eye. I sat through all the group counselling sessions without paying a bit of attention. All the faces along with their name fused together.

I act I paid attention as I listened to the educational talks, sometimes mocked mentally to their ways of prevention of triggers. They seemed to be destined to fail, and also I was not an alcoholic, I didn't need them.

After repeating many lies and I got discharged to the embrace of my mother in the end.

It was then I knew I had to leave to the city again. There was no way I could live sober, especially in that house.