Coming and going

I remember my father coming and going growing up.

Coming home with Bonnie, a white and black dog teddy with a red bow, who’s fur I later decide to trim because I think it’s too long.

We’re in the hallway with brown tile floor and my dad is coming through the front door.

I think he is coming back from a trip to Florida but I can’t actually remember.

I stand in the hallway and watch him come through the door. He pulls out Bonnie from the suitcase and I take her in my arms. She’s soft and big and I squeeze her hard.

Many years later I come and go just like my dad. I arrive, only to at some point, leave again. Absence runs in my blood.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s