Remember My Mistakes

5. Mother and Father

Mom looked at me and said "Cara! You look lovely in that blouse!" The woman walked over and wrapped her tiny arms around me. I had to hug her back, she's so friendly.

She began to squeeze, and where I had several bruises, it ached. My body tightened. I guess my "mother" noticed because she loosened her grip and back away from my aching form.

"Cara, your bruised! Why didn't you just get a hotel room, that was a nasty storm..." Mother nagged. I smiled though, she was just looking out for me and I really appreciated it. Even though, I felt a little helpless.

Helpless.

I couldn't take care of myself, someone always trying to take care of me, as if I couldn't take care of myself. Yet, I did crash my vehicle, which isn't a great way to show mom that I can take care of myself. I guess that makes me useless.

Useless.

I can't do anything, without someone helping me. To them, if they don't help me, i'll never do it right. Am I really that childish? Do they thing I can't fend for myself. I didn't think that I was that bad. I'll never understand, am I worthless.

Worthless.

As if I don't matter. Do I really need to be here? No, not really. To them anyway. However, I know that I am not the W-word. Not in a million years. I am here for a reason, and I will show them that, even if my head in a little out of the ordinary.

"Yes, mom." I spoke. "Maybe I should of gotten a hotel room, but I didn't. But you cannot change the past, you can only shape your future."

Mom looked at me as if there were three eyes on my face instead of two. "Yes, Cara. I know, but if you don't let people care for you, you'll never get better." she explained. So that's what she thinks. huh? That I need to be taken care of? No way, no way is that happening.

I pulled my shirt down over my waist and said, "You can fix your future if you have the courage and bravery of doing it on your own."

She looked and me and said, "but you used to be taken care of, I help shape who you are." I smiled and said, "I know you did, but I cant dwell on the past, I need to focus on my future." Mom looked at me and smiled. She gave me a soft tug on my arm and pulled me into a soft hug. "You were always a nice young girl. Brave, strong, and you have so much potential. Your father would always say that." she whispered in my ear, and then I went into a day dream.

**Flashback**

"I'm coming to get you! The tickle monster is coming!" My father called out. He was chasing me and I was running for my dear life. Daddy was the tickle monster, and I was the little kid that had to run away.

"Daddy!' I squealed, when he grabbed by the waist and flung me over his shoulder. "Daddy! Put me down." I laughed and he sat me on the couch. "Here I come." he would say and then tickle my sides until I laughed so hard, that no sound came out.

After he was done, I would pick at him. poking him on the cheek, giving him wet willy's, and push him until he would look over at me. "The tickle monster is soon coming out again." He would laugh. I poke him one last time.

Then he would pull me by the arm, very gently though. I would sit in his lap. I mean I wasn't big for a six year old. he would stroke my hair and he said "You are so brave, strong, and you have so much potential." Then he gave me a soft kiss on the top of my head and said, "Daddy will always love you."

*****

"Cara! Why didn't you tell me as soon as I walked in!" My mother yelled. I shook my head, and said "what are you talking about?" She looked at me bulged her eyes. I looked over at Brett. "I told her about your memory loss," he mouthed. I nodded and said "Sorry mom, I didn't realize." I let my head hang low.

Mom looked at me and said "Listen, it's your fault sweety, everything is going to be okay. We will help you remember.

We?

Does she want to help me now? I can only imagine how this will go. Brett trying to get me to remember him, and trying to bring back my old self in the process. But mom? what if she starts telling me really old stories, and turns me into the old, six year old me.

Twenty nine, going on six.

I don't want to be six, no. That's not how it works. I really hope mom being here doesn't change who I am supposed to be, or who I used to be.

I looked at mom and said "That's okay, Brett is helping me. He has already brought back several memories." I was waving my hands, until mom grabbed my left hand and examined the ring. Oh- No.

"Who gave you this? Was it Brett?" she asked, As if Brett couldn't hear. I mean he was standing right behind her. I shook my head yes. Her eyes lit up in excitement. "Your engaged! Oh my god! Your going to be Mrs. Anderson! My little baby is growing up!" she had several tears rolling down her cheeks. She must be really happy.

"We have to celebrate! I'm going to go call a restaurant and get reservations! I can't wait!" Then she left the house without a single trail behind her. I love her. I love her so much, she is awesome.

Brett looked up at me and said, "So? what do you think?" I smiled and said " I like her, where's my dad." Brett's soft eyes, turned into a pool of sadness. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"You have to tell me now."

"I can't"

"Yes you can."

"Fine."

Brett placed his hands on his hips and said, "Your father goes on so many business trips that he doesn't come to visit you. He used to come see you, until four years ago. Well, that's what you said anyway. You have not seen your father in four, long years."

I widened my eyes and then shut them tightly. Four years? Is it really that hard to come and visit you daughter? He left his offspring, he left his daughter. He left me. How could he do this? From my only memory of him, he seemed so loving. I thought he loved me.

My dad. He is someone I should be looking up to, should be calling when something goes wrong. My mom is great too. I mean, don't get me wrong. However, there are boundaries and many walls that set the difference between a mother and a father. That's why, when you have a dad, you try your hardest to keep him in your heart.

That's when it hit me, and it hit me like a wrecking ball. Who is going to walk me down that long isle. Apparently not my dad, since he is clearly staying out of my life. Yet, who is going to walk me down the isle when I get married.

I can't. I just can't. How do I say "I do," knowing that my father could of been there. Could of walked me down. He is out there, and I want him to be at my future wedding.

I need my knight in shining armor. I need to find him. I need my childhood hero. I need my dad.