Carry On

         Ten years to date, I think bleakly. I trace another raindrop down the window and sigh. It’s hard to believe it’s been a decade since I last saw my father. I miss him every day. I bring my legs up close to my body and let my chin sink to my knees. It was raining that day too. Suddenly my mind is ten years into the past. It was January sixteenth, same as today.

                  I was only six, and at the first lightening flash I was cowering under my blankets and counting up to the thunder- the scariest part of every storm. The crashing sound was so long and loud I thought for sure it was going to go on forever. As soon as it was over, I rushed out of bed and down the long hall to my parents’ room. But they weren’t there.
         I remember that momentary panic I felt when I thought I was all alone, but then I heard them yelling downstairs. I slowly crept down the long wooden staircase. I held my breath each time the ancient wood creaked, thinking for sure I’d be caught and sent to bed. Halfway down another flash of lightening lit up the foyer. I winced and clamped my eyes shut waiting for the thunder. One… two… three… four… BOOOOM! It was even closer. My heart was threatening to pop right out of my chest.
                When I finally made it to the kitchen, mom and dad were still at it. I don’t know what they were fighting about, but even then, I knew it was going to end bad. “Why don’t you just leave!” mama shouted. Daddy reached for his keys on the black and white granite countertop and headed for the back door.
                “Daddy!” I lunged through the door and clung to his khaki pants. “Please don’t leave,” I cried, “Mama didn’t mean it.” He put his big, strong hands on my shoulders and crouched down so he was at eye level with me. He lifted his hands to my cheeks and wiped my cheeks with his thumbs.
                “I know, Rosie. I’m just going for a little drive. I’ll be back real soon, I promise.” I looked into his chocolate eyes, and I believed him. He scooped me up and I buried my head in his shoulder. “I love you daddy,” I whispered. He squeezed me tight before letting me slide back to the ground.

                  Walking with mama back to my room, I heard the car start in the garage. Dad went on drives a lot after fights (“to cool off his big head” mama said), and he always came back.
But that was a long time ago. Here in this decade I'm supposed to be working on my math homework (which I’ve been working on for two hours). Math is definitely not my best subject. Oh well, I thought. I slammed my binder and decided to go for a walk. I slipped on my Nikes and grabbed a green polka dot umbrella on my way out the door.
         Ten minutes later and there I am. The rain has slowed down to a drizzle now, so I fold the umbrella and set it on the ground. The granite tombstone looks even shinier now that it’s wet. “Daniel Snyder,” I read aloud. “Hey dad. It’s been a while.” Two weeks to be exact. “Sorry ‘bout that.” I sit down on my knees facing the tombstone. “Anyways, you know that guy Matt I told you about?” I ask as I sit trace the words in front of me: beloved father, husband, and son. “Well, he asked me out last Saturday. We went to that little diner on the corner of Monaca and Peach.” My dad and I used to go there all the time. He’d pick me up from school and we’d share a sundae while he listened to me jabber on and on about the drama of first grade. “Trina Butler still works there. She gave me extra sprinkles, just like she used to…”
         I fought back the impending tears. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. I can usually talk for hours here, but not today. Not when it’s just like the day that he died. I always thought I was closer to him here, as if I could feel his presence. Maybe it’s just nostalgia. I just don’t know any more.
         “Why dad…” I stifle a sob when I hear some one approaching behind me. Their footsteps stop about two yards behind me.
         “Rose?” the person says in an I-hope-I’m-not-interrupting-something kind of way. Unfortunately, it’s not just anyone. It’s Matt. Figures. I wipe my eyes with the back of my sleeve and turn to look at him. I see his red Honda in the distance.
         “You drove here.” It’s really more of a statement than the question that I intended it to be. I think he said something in return, but I was still stuck on the fact that he drove here. “Are you insane?” I implore. He’s completely shocked. I’ve never yelled at him before. “Don’t you know anything? The roads aren’t safe when it’s raining! You could have died!” It was out before I could stop it.
         Matt shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “That’s how it happened, isn’t it?” I turned back around to face the grave. “Your mom said this was the anniversary of your dad’s… the crash.” The tears were silently falling in full force now. It felt like a dam had suddenly broken it my soul. Sure, I cried at the funeral and everything, but I guess I’ve never really gotten over it.
         “He promised,” I choked. I swallowed to clear my throat and started again. “He promised he’d be back soon.” I fingered the gold chain around my neck, finally finding the dragon pendant hanging from it.

         He let me slip gently from his arms. Mama said she should get me back to bed. Dad looked at her and then reached up behind his neck. He took his prize possession- his gold necklace from Tokyo- from his neck and crouched down to me again. “You take care of her for me,” he said as he fastened his necklace around my substantially smaller neck. Every time he took a drive, he entrusted me with his necklace. It was a promise to come back. I didn’t think he’d ever break a promise to me.

                Matt closed the gap between us and turned me around to face him. He wiped the tears that were now flowing down my face. It felt so much like that night in the kitchen. I collapsed into his chest and just cried. He held me tight, wrapping his left arm around my back and placing his right on the back of my head.
         I don’t know how long we stood there, but we finally headed toward his car when we were thoroughly drenched and I was all cried out. Something about a good cry always makes me feel better, but it felt like it was more than that- like some weight had been lifted of my shoulders, and I didn’t even know how much it was baring down on me until it was gone.