By the time I turned 8, I had watched my mom enter rehab twice, my dad once, and I had moved around quite a bit. I never attended a school for more than three years – even all the way through high school. I never lived in the same house for more than a few years either. Actually, until I had kids of my own, I never lived anywhere for more than a few years. And then I settled. Down. But we’ll get there.
I went on vacation with my dad when I was around 8. He was on his way to recovery and we escaped to Disney World and Florida for a few days. I’m pretty sure we drove but I don’t remember any of that. I remember meeting my great grandparents though! My great-grandmother was the absolute epitome of grandmothers. White hair, a little round in the middle, laughed all the time and had nothing but goodness to give me. My great-grandfather was so smart. It oozed from him. That was the only time I would meet them but it was a good one.
My dad loves roller coasters. He sold me on them from a very young age. Lean into that feeling you get when you come out of your seat. It’s such a rush. And oh man, did we have fun. Disney World was amazing. The whole trip was amazing. Just me and dad, living our best lives.
Over the next few years, I spent very little time with anyone except my dad. And Mrs. Anthony who lived in the same apartment building as us and watched me before and after school. I would see my mom when she was healthy. I would see my uncles when my dad could make it work. I had a few friends at the newest school and everything was sort of ‘normal.’ We lived in a one-bedroom apartment and my dad turned the unused dining room into my room. I had a cot and dresser. I still have that dresser. I spent years tucking all of my clothes, momentos and secrets into the 9 drawer masterpiece my great grandmother had given my dad. That’s probably why I’ve kept it all this time – it feels like its one tiny piece of me that made it through. I should go high five it. We did it buddy.
This Is My Path 