Sitting on the park bench, I realized a few things. One, I'm a complete, disastrous, complicated mess. Two, I'm probably beyond unfixable. Three, I love cherry blossoms. I made a bouquet for my mom. I'll bring them to her later. The cherry blossoms remind me of her so much. They're beautiful, so delicate, so feminine. I hope she likes them. Her favorite flowers were always lilies, at least, according to Dad they were. He would always bring her lilies every Thursday when he got home from work. She always smiled when he gave them to her just like it was the very first time. On our small, round, chestnut table, there was always a glass vase full of various colored lilies and water, obviously. That is, up until recently.
I just got back from visiting Mom. We talked just like we always do, I laughed and smiled occasionally. But, on the way home, tears streamed down my face as I walked. It's the same routine ever time I visit her. I don't want her to see me cry because it makes her upset. I always have hated seeing anyone cry, especially my parents, especially if it was because of me. I wish I could visit her more, even though I go every day of the week except Thursdays and Fridays. On those days, I work at the Shack at the Fair View mall. My pay is small, but it's better than no pay at all. Not that I am able to use, or see, any of it. In my saving account it all goes directly for college.
After Mom left, things have been a little difficult, in all aspects of life. Dad works two jobs, so I rarely see him, but it's still barely enough to support everything financially. He works the day shift, 7 AM to 5 PM, at the store, then comes home. We eat dinner and talk about our days, but then he has to go to Job Two, mechanic/repairman/electrician/plumber/landscaper/babysitter/whatever his boss tells him to do. Job Two is from 9 PM to 2 AM. Hearing him close the door and walk in is usually my sign that I should go to bed, like a parent giving a child a bedtime.
understandme33