The Bridge

Prompt: The Bridge

12shortstories.com

Word Count: 1200

Bridge to Yesterday and Tomorrow by T.R. Kisgen

Last night I was a teenager

And this morning I fell in love.

Before breakfast I was a mother, yet

By lunch the nest is empty.

By dinner I’m divorced and alone, and

By dessert I’m drunken and sad.

Where did I go?

Life spreads across my kitchen table in unorganized snapshots. My dad is bare-chested, climbing the rope in the tree as he hangs our tire swing. In another photo it is my first day of school. Lots of Christmas pictures, and birthdays, and graduation, and then… there is Mom and Dad dancing on their 50th wedding anniversary. It seems strange that I don’t recall much about that special night.

In a daze about the speed of time, I’m forced to realize that my father has become an old man.  He’s not the brunette muscle man grilling burgers and smiling at the camera. Now this cool fellow uses a cane to get around. He is small and hunched over with a shock of white hair.

We buried Mom this week. She lived to be 81 and passed from a heart attack. We will never see Mom again. This is hard to accept. The three of us no longer have a mother.

There’s a knock at the door. Mikey lets himself in but doesn’t acknowledge me. My older brother sips his Starbucks coffee while rifling through my mail, looking for bills. Mikey treats me like a child even though I am 58 years old.

The winter sun has not yet risen and I can see my reflection in the window. My long dark hair has been replaced with gray. My round cheeks have drooped into jowls that hang lower than my chin. I used to be a pretty girl but now look like my grandmother, who died five years ago. Death is a scary thought.

“Mikey, what do you think it’s like to die?”

“No idea.”

“Do you believe in Heaven?”

“I don’t know. Mom never did.”

“Well I hope she went to heaven. I want to see her again. Do you believe in God?”

“I don’t want to talk about this. We have to decide who gets Dad. Nancy and I have an extra bedroom with Charlie in college. I don’t think it would be best for Rosie and Kirk to take Dad because they just got married, and you know, they’re younger.”

“What about me? I live alone and can give him my full attention.”

“You can’t be serious. You want to take care of Dad when you can’t even take care of yourself?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Your drinking. How many times have you gone to AA? One meeting here, and a couple more times there… you’re an addict. You’ve ruined your life. Your kids stopped speaking to you, Jimmy finally left and – look at you. You are slamming whiskey at 6 o’clock. You cannot take care of Dad. You don’t deserve that privilege.”

“I don’t have a problem. I just lost my mother and am grieving. Aren’t you?”

“Look at your sink. Dishes haven’t been washed since nineteen seventy what? Your floors are filthy, and you can’t even see your countertops or the table. Good grief, a plant could not survive here.”

“You need to leave, Big Brother. You are very disrespectful to me.”

“Do you forget who pays your rent? It’s me, sister. Do you forget who gives you money to eat and who keeps you off the streets? You are in no position to tell me anything. Dad will need help with his finances, meals, exercise, and he needs help remembering to take all those pills. I’ll talk to Nancy and then make arrangements to have Dad move in with us.”

“He is my father, too. Just because you have more money does not mean you can control what happens to our family. You are so selfish!”

“Always a victim, aren’t ya?”

As Mikey peels out of the driveway I return to the kitchen. With new eyes I see the mess. Living alone, nobody complains so I never realized how my living quarters might appear to someone else. In order to get Dad, I will need a maid, or maybe two.

Drinking has been a comfort for me, like a warm bed on a cold night. Alcohol has been my best friend, the one who understands me and protects me from the storms. It will be hard to give it up and the longest I’ve gone without a drink is two months. However, maybe Mikey is right. Maybe alcohol has removed me from living and has hurt my relationships. Alcohol has kept me indoors and my world is small. Time is passing and I’m not part of the process.

Mom always told me to “face your demons or they will kill you”. She begged me to make peace with my children.

Maybe I need counseling. Maybe I need a time machine. I’d go back to high school and avoid the party scene and especially Ronald. Without knowing Ronald, there might have been a chance for a normal life. Maybe I would have never touched alcohol. Maybe I would have never been raped.

This is such a strange mental stage: old memories, present times, and a blurry in-between. I don’t remember much of my own adulthood. I went straight from teenage years to an old person with even older parents. My brother takes care of me but I don’t recall when that started, and I have never been thankful. He treats me like I’m a slow kid, yet I made better grades than him in school. What happened to me? I need to find my way back, before it’s my turn to die.

What is my father’s life going to be like now? Mikey isn’t even considering what Dad wants. He might have an opinion on what happens next. Mom was a fifties housewife and took care of the house, all 3 of us kids, and handled the bills. Dad went to work and cut the grass. His life will be so different without his wife.

Without Mom, Dad needs someone to step in and take care of him, who loves him. Mikey isn’t gentle and he might really need to take care of Dad, like in personal ways. His wife should not be that person either. Our baby sister just got married so she’s not an option. I am willing to give up alcohol to get my life back.

Stepping into life again could be the bridge that leads me back. I’m picturing making sandwiches and watching races together. We could listen to country music and look at old photos. Maybe I could make him happy and we could get to know each other as adults. Before I know it, my fingers are dialing Dad’s number.

“Dad, it’s Hildy. I want you to come live with me. What do you think about that? We can sell your house and you can live with me. I can help you.”

“Hi. I appreciate the offer but no, I’m not moving in with you. I want you to come live with me at the house you grew up in. We can help each other.”