This week the prompt word is “back”
The ride home was fraught with tears and hysteria. The call at midnight saying dad I am on the train can you pick me up.
My first thought was that bastards hit her again. Then it shifted to your concerns. To my own disquiet that my little girl, for I still think of you in those terms, was hurting and needed her dad.
Coming back home after all these years must have taken courage on your behalf. I knew that one day you would return, that in one way or another you’d find your way back to your childhood home.
Now as I look at you damaged and bruised from yet another marital encounter with a man who believed you were his to treat in any way he felt at the time. My beautiful girl who sat with me on the lounge and watched Doctor Who.
How would you put this behind you I wondered? At least you were back home and in doing so I felt the parental need to protect and to heal. But I’d had learned through life that as a parent I had to step back, I had to let you sort yourself out, I had to give you space to find your feet, to settle back into the space that was once yours.
That night I put you to bed, turned off the lights and momentarily felt I was back twenty years, when you hugged me goodnight, when I read to you stories I had had read to me many years before.
I knew there would be none of that this time, but I couldn’t help but remember, back to a time I now treasure.