His little girl says "Daddy, can I watch TV in your room with my friends if I promise to not go into your closet?"
she not knowing exactly what he does in there but knows that when he is is in there, he does not want to be bothered.
not knowing what the glass straws with black stains are
or the glass thing with dirty water
not knowing what causes the layer of dust and ash that is different from the normal dust in the house.
but she, so young, knows something in there needs to be hidden.
hidden,
not mentioned,
hidden,
not discussed,
like the time she and her daddy went to his friends house and she was told to stay in the house while they went into the garage to smoke, even though the night was crystal clear and one of those perfectly cool nights to be enjoyed before the heat of summer takes full hold.
like the time they went for a drive to one of his friends house, then another, than a third, never staying at each place for more than 30 minutes.
like the one dark night they went to one of his friends houses and the child needed to stay in the car and wait.
not knowing exactly what takes her daddy away, but she feels the loss
Strongly
feels the abandonment
feels the instability
she knows there is love, but the love has the price of chaos that she must bear.
and although she sees him three or four times a week he is never really home.
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