The Destruction of a Childhood

The day my life was torn apart

I am shaken awake, and the first face I see is my beautiful mother, I have always admired her beautifully structured cheekbones and stick straight dark brown hair. She tells me that we have plans today and for me to hurry and get ready, which I thought was odd because it was Saturday and my mom hated leaving the house on the weekends. I figured it was a beautiful Missouri spring day and she wanted some fresh air. My stomach tightens a bit, but I get dressed. As I wander downstairs my sister and I give equally confused looks and our mother quietly shoves us out the door.

“Mom can we get a snack and soda at the gas station?” Although I knew the answer would be no because my mom rarely let us drink soda, but to my surprise, she pulled over and allowed us to get a Sprite. To this day I still find it funny that my sister and I getting a soda told me something was going to happen that day.

    “We are going to spend the day with Joey and Kelly. You girls go inside and play pool, I need to talk to Kelly.”

We obeyed and went inside, but again my sister and I felt a strange impending doom, which was a new feeling for a 9 and 11-year-old.

    “Do you know what's going on? Mom is acting weird today, and why isn't dad here, he always hangs out with Joey…”

My questions go unanswered because I know my sister is thinking the same things. Eventually we start to wonder where our mom is, so we go and look for her; we find her on the porch crying to Kelly, where we are quickly shooed inside and told to leave her alone.

    We stayed at their house for hours. It felt like all day but eventually, we started to head home. My mom blasted some horrendous Akon song in the car, which my sister and I both know she only listened to when she was upset. My stomach was in a firm knot at this point, but only got worse when she pulled up to the house and said: “Shit, your dad is awake.” As a child, you think your parents are always happy to see each other, especially if you’ve been gone all day, but apparently not.

    We all quietly head inside, and my parents tell us to go upstairs while they have a heated discussion about something just out of earshot. My sister and I sit in her room for what seems like forever, trying to hear what my parents are arguing about. After what feels like years we can hear mom shout, “Kids come down here please.” Another odd thing, because our mom rarely said please to us.

    “Girls sit down. Your dad and I have something we need to talk to you about…” Which looking back now its a funny statement, because my dad didn't say a single thing, he only cried.

“Your father and I are getting a divorce and you are going to be staying with him until I find a job. You’ll be staying with your Grandma in Texas,” After the conversation, they sent us upstairs while they finished their own talk.

“Ana, what does divorce mean?” I never got an answer, just a very sad hug and we both cried for awhile, I replay the memory in my head now, and I see a very sad man whose life is being destroyed, and a monster with no emotion ripping our family apart.

A couple of weeks later, the night we were supposed to leave for our new house in Texas, we had packed only the essentials and a moving truck would come later to pick up our things. As we are driving away from what I called home for years, I look back expecting to see a sad mother waving goodbye to her kids: but she was nowhere to be found…

As we grew up she came in and out of our lives with the occasional “Happy birthday!” or “How’s school going?”

And my dad was a husk of a man, taking to alcohol as his only comfort. My sister and I raised ourselves, growing into respectful women who rely on no one but each other, and all I can do is take each day one step at a time…

Mom, thank you for leaving me, I am a better person because of it…