With This One

Chapter One

It was around the time that my mother had left that I had felt the need to start planning out my life.  I was only six when I decided that I wanted to become a teacher.  I remember writing it down in my diary that that is what I wanted to do with my life and funny enough, that’s actually what I’m doing.  It’s weird how at such a young age you can make such a crucial decision and then not think twice about it later on, like how when I decided that I never wanted anything to do with my mother. 

When I was born my mother and father were over the moon happy, but then her sister died in a car accident.  I’ve been told many stories about how the two were practically the same person as to how close they were.  They had been each other’s rocks through everything, I guess that’s why when my aunt died, my mother lost it.   She began heavily drinking and leaving almost every night going out to different clubs not returning until noon the next day, leaving my dad and me on our own.  I was five when my dad finally decided to call off the marriage.  He had become a single parent trying to raise me and be able to support me though working endless hours at the bank but he had always found a way to be there for me.  I remember back to when he broke the news to me that he and my mother were no longer going to be together. 

“Amelia sweetheart,” he began.  “There’s no easy way of saying this, but your mother and I are no longer going to be living together.”

I was expected to react as if she had died.  To be sad and heartbroken, but somehow for a five year old, I understood.  I saw the pain that my mother was causing him and I knew that seeing my father sad all of the time wasn’t right.  I accepted the news of their split quite well, unlike my mother.

She didn’t react to the news that he wanted a divorce well at all!  She tried to take him for everything he was worth, including me but had lost the battle in court, so she packed up and moved across the country to Fredericton, New Brunswick.  I haven’t seen her since and I never want to.

The thing that stuck with me was that she didn’t even say “good bye”.  My dad told me in later years that before my aunt had died, my mother and I would spend countless hours together playing with dolls and reading stories, but for some reason I could never believe him.  I have only seen my mother the way she was after the accident with my aunt and I know, even if she would have said “good bye” to me the day she moved across the country, it wouldn’t change the way I feel now.

When everything had calmed down with all of the many court dates, I turned six and had a birthday party.  I remember the party in my backyard.  My dad and I had sat down a few weeks prior to the date writing up party invitations for the students in my grade one class.  Even with all of the legal things going on, my dad still found time to be a dad. 

The day of the party, all of the girls and boys dressed up as fairy tale characters as we welcomed a party clown and watched him put on a show.  I was getting a piece of cake when one of the kid’s mothers came over to me.  I remember her asking me if I was doing alright after my mother had left.  Everyone in the town knew what was going on; it was all over the news.  I didn’t understand why she was asking me if I was alright that my mother had left.  My mother was mentally gone years before on the night she began drinking and going out to clubs.  I politely told her, “I’m alright,” and then went back to eating my cake.  What was a six year old supposed to say about their mother leaving them?

Years later I was graduating elementary school.  The teachers wanted us to come up with a few answers to the following questions:

What was your favourite memory at this school?

What will you miss the most?

And

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I didn’t struggle unlike many of the other kids when answering the last question.  I had already known for many years what I wanted to be when I was older, but some kids didn’t understand why I already knew.

“That’s a dumb thing to be,” one kid had said whose name I don’t care to remember.

“No it isn’t!” I answered to his rather rude statement.

“Well I want to become the big boss at a big company,” he replied.  He was aiming high!

“Well you can do that while I become a teacher,” I smiled and then continued to write out my answer on the sheet.

“Loser,” he said under his breath as he walked away.

Sure, when we are young, we are told to aim big for huge dreams but then you have to take into consideration reality.  What are the chances that you’ll become some big time leader of a big company?  Rather slim.  This is why that kid never made it to becoming anything like a big time boss.  He’s a part of the janitorial staff at the school I’ve been teaching at.  I guess my plans for the future weren’t so “dumb” after all.

My dad tried his best to be both of the parents.  When I was in high school, I struggled with bullying from many of the girls in my grade.  It would get as bad that I didn’t want to go to school most days.  Those were some of the hardest years of my life.  When I would come home from a long and terrible day at school my dad would always have fresh brownies made with vanilla ice cream waiting for me.  We would talk through the problems and then end the night off watching comedy shows.  Even though my life at school was hard, my dad always knew how to make me feel better.

Going off to University was extremely hard for me having to leave my dad behind.  I remember him telling me that he would always be there when I would come home.  I wish that statement would always be true.

I had received a letter of recommendation today from the principle of the school I was teaching at.  It was a job offer to move to England to teach the students French for two years.  The first person I thought to tell was my dad.  All of my friends would be supportive of the thought of me moving across the ocean for a new experience, but I had to hear what my dad thought of the idea.

“Wow,” he said scratching the back of his head.  “This is an amazing opportunity for you.”

“It is,” I sighed sitting down at the kitchen table across from him.  “Do you think I should do it?”

“Of course you should,” he replied.

My dad would always encourage me to try out for every sports team and dance team when I was back in school.  He wanted me to feel a sense of belonging to somewhere and always wanted me to be enjoying myself.  He always put me before himself.

“I’ll be gone for two years,” I said, glancing down at the letter.

“And like I’ve always said, I’ll be here when you get back,” he reassured reaching out and taking my hand from across the table.

For the first time ever, my dad had unknowing lied.