Warning:

Repressed memory drop in 3...2...1...

Memory drop initiated. Commence mixed emotions. One part lamentation of past circumstances, one part amazement at survival of past circumstances.

I was recently talking to someone about our families' history of mental dysfunction. It (eventually) triggered a few memories.

When I was less than half my current age, my parents' marriage was on the rocks. Dad had taken to drinking again, which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up at all times.

I'd come home from school and take a few minutes to decompress from being on edge all day. 7th & 8th grade were the only years where I'd have the house to myself for a little while. Sis came home an hour later, and Dad didn't get in until after dark. Mom came home in the hour between sis & I.

Sometimes Mom would come home, sit down, and break down. Not knowing what else to do, I'd go over & hug her until she stopped crying.

If there's one thing I have in common with Bugs Bunny, it's that we can't stand seeing dames cry.

She started going to our pastor for help - yes, once upon a time I DID go to church - while Dad didn't seem to give a damn.

I never knew exactly what was going on. I just knew that I was scared of Dad a little more than usual. A few months later, we had a family meeting. Sis and I sat on the floor in front of our parents, sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Dad said something along the lines of:

"You both have probably noticed that your mother and I are having some problems. We don't know what's going to happen."

I think they went to all of three counselling sessions together, and then Dad stopped going. I don't think anything ever got better until my last year of college.