|It's not entirely a coincidence that Song For Josh is next to his picture.|
That is one of my favorite things about being human.
I've told a couple of stories about my dad here before. But this morning I was reminded of one I've told a handful of people. Apparently, it stuck.
I was in 7th grade and my dad and step-monster were going through a divorce. My dad moved out and since he had sole custody, I had to go with him. Instead of taking me to his mother's place with him, he left me with my mom. To this point in my life there were stretches of years when I would not hear from her so this was a bit of a shock to me.
A new school, a new home - a stranger's home.
It was rough. Living with a functioning alcoholic while generally just being an asshole child is a pretty toxic combination. I got into trouble; fights, cutting class, nothing too felonious.
I was fucking miserable. When I would talk to my dad on the phone I would cry and beg him to come and get me. On the weekends I spent with him I reverted to being a little boy, even calling him daddy once or twice. He promised that soon enough it would just be the two of us again.
After two weeks of this I met a girl. An 8th grader named Jamie. I walked her home, carried her books, had a full on crush. She was a foot taller than me (give or take) with huge boobs right at eye level. And she fucking liked ME.
She was my silver lining.
On a Friday I was walking her home. Carrying her books. I could smell her lip gloss on my lips. I am pretty sure I had a painful boner.
We stopped at the light on Valley Blvd. to cross the street and I saw him. Sitting at the bus stop waiting, not for a bus, for me.
I handed Jamie her books and took off without looking back. The light was red but, I didn't care. I think I actually floated across the street anyway.
This brings me to this morning's reminder from a dear friend all the way in Ohio.
I threw myself into my dad's arms and he grabbed my face and said, "I found a place for us, let's go get your things and go home."
And we did.