When I was little, I never got on well with my mom or my dad.
I was terrified of my dad in so many ways.
He never ... physically hurt me. Not really.
But he emotionally abused me to a point of later mental trauma.
Here's the power of a memory.
When my dad came home.. he might be in a bad mood. If he was in a bad mood, he'd find a reason to yell at me or mom. If he got mad at me, I'd get in trouble bad...
Until he walked in and I saw what mood he was in... I was afraid.
So I learned the sound of his truck pulling into the drive, helplessly.
His truck was always a certain kind of engine that made a certain kind of sound... it had a very rumbling sound... so that when he pulled in there was a lull in the noise, then as he pulled up the hill to his parking place, it was like "dunuhdunuhdunuhdunuh"
That sound... I may never forget.
One day... I had just walked out of Chick Fil A with a coke in my hand.
I heard that sound. That engine, pulling in. I froze. I almost dropped my drink. My heart skipped a beat. My chest heaved and my lungs seized. I froze in place and gasped then my eyes darted around frantically. They landed on the truck that pulled up directly in front of me... not my dad's truck. Some red truck that someone else owned with the same kind of engine. They got out and went in to get food. I leaned against the wall, caught my breath and almost cried.
This happened last year.
I am 26 years old, an adult, married with a child, have been moved out of my Dad's house since I was 17.
9 years since I had to answer to that man.
And that sound still freezes me in place, draws my breath, and makes my heart skip a beat.
I stood there that day and cried a moment then got in the car and had to explain to my mate what had caused me to suddenly have a fit in the middle of an otherwise happy day.
Sometimes someone will ask me if my dad was really that bad.
When I still talked to him, my dad insisted he had never been as bad as I made him out to be.
That kind of trauma, however does not lie.
That is the power of a memory.
And that is the memory I felt like sharing today.
The day a memory struck me as hard as reality, and assured me I'd always remembered that man correctly.
If you ever read this, Larry... Fuck you. You were a horrible person.
I am sorry that sound can still scare you, that doesn't sound like he was a good father ::hugs::
ReplyDeleteI hope you don't have to hear the sound any time soon
I remember that time, and the revelation of what that simple sound can do. :[
ReplyDeleteI remember the sound of him pulling up, too, you know. But for me it was always more "great, that asshole's here, now everything is harder. Maybe he'll be hit by a meteorite before he can make it to the door."
It's kind of strange that you talk about the listening for engines... because I have something associated with the sound of a car engine that is polar opposite of your memory.
ReplyDeleteIt's very sad, though, to know these things can carry on in us... and that your dad would be such a powerfully negative course in your life.