I saw my mom packing up our stuff again. I'm only four, but I know what is happening. I know what comes next. When Dad goes to work we will leave, again. I don't know why we do this when the result is always the same. Mommy and Daddy start living together again. The screaming, hitting and the distant feeling between my parents and I continues. I also knew that once we left my dad would care about me again, or at least would he finally show that he did. It always seemed that my dad would show me more attention when mom left him. I'm not sure if it's because he missed me or if he knew that the only way to win my mom back was to care about the children that she so deeply loved. My mom wasn't perfect, but she loved us. My dad loved us too of course. They just had a strange way of showing it. When my dad gets home from work I won't be there. My mom and my sisters won't be there. I can picture it in my head. My dad will come home to an empty house. No kids running around, no wife yelling at him, no sound of the vacuum. Nothing. He will cry, he will drink, he will hurt himself and he will pick up his guitar and write another song about my mom that I would have to hear for the rest of my life. I didn't like to hear those songs.
