Be careful with the little ones

I was two when my parents divorced.
My first memory is of my father
carrying my mother, slung over his shoulder,
down the hallway to their bedroom.

After he left the house, I walked from
the living room to their bedroom.
“Mommy, are you ok?”

She was crying.

After the divorce there was an emptiness.
I still feel it.
It took years before my father gained the
right to visit with my brother and I.
Once a week.
Sunday,
11-5

Eventually another man was there.
That’s when the real torture began.

-M. Taggart

Odd Walking Thoughts – The Mirror Looks Blankly.

Half of you is half of the kid. And half of the other. Before this you met and decided. Then there was the kid and both of you split from yourselves. Leaving the kid with one of you. Now you touch off at the mouth and tell the kid how the other is. And if it’s bad then you’ve insulted the kid because the kids is half of both. Well done. Dad. Mom. It’s nice that your selfish intuition lead you to the point of ruining your child’s mind. The mirror looks blankly at the ones without self reflection.

The Exaggerator – Odd Walking Thoughts

He walked farther into the Forrest with his son. He wanted to tell of the tree with the face. He could’t find it. As they searched he told the boy of how the tree must have uprooted itself and moved on because it was alive enough to have a face and speak and could certainly move about the woods as it pleased.  The boy listened and took notice of the tone his mother had warned of. It took on a note of story telling and mistrust grew from each story.  His father crossed a brook then hurried up a slight ravine and happened upon an eleven. See son, these two fallen branches make an eleven and they are showing us the way to the tree face. These were put here as a marker for you and I. There’s no way for them to simply be. They are for us, his father said with great seriousness. His son looked at the Forrest floor wearing a look if sadness. What’s wrong, his father asked. The boy replied, do you ever want to tell and not describe? What do you mean, his father pressed.  That’s maybe not an eleven put here for us, the boy replied. No? He looked at his son with an irritable glance.  Then what is it?  His son answered, two sticks not laying down.

 

 

Why your daughter holds the wrong hand – Odd Walking thoughts

Guys when you’re looking back wondering why your daughter is holding the hand of another man and calling him Daddy also, please see. When you left her mother crying in the bathroom. When she’d asked for you to stay and to talk. When you closed the door and felt the weight lift from your shoulders and felt you’d never seen the steps so clearly. When you slammed your truck door and felt alive again and slammed on the gas and tore from the driveway and left them all. Hindsight is within reach if you see.