Some of the happiest memories of my Dad start with a blue minivan and end with the aforementioned blue minivan having eyeball stickers and rusted pieces rolling down a hill and smashing into a tree. This is important for a few reasons, and the vans death puts the lid on one of my biggest transitional moments in my life so far. Because the first year visiting “dad’s new house“ was an experience all in its own

The first year of my parents divorce was definitely the hardest, for a great number of reasons and one of the most prominent would be the fact that I still don't fully understand the reason for why it had to happen. But I’ve learned to trust them and that in the end me and my little brother would come out of it just fine. That wasn’t the thought then though, the thoughts then were a lot of anger, sadness, and confusion. I blamed myself for a lot of the issues that I thought had split them up and that my dad after moving out wasn’t gonna wanna see us again, this of course was a pretty stupid idea. ( I was 12, whaddya want from me?)

The idea of my dad living as far away as 45 mins was a scary one for quite a while (now it’s 3 and a half hours!) and frankly still is, I was so mad at mom for kicking him out and so mad he left without a fight. The time we spent there always had a bitter mood and I don’t remember a lot of it. Because my brain blocked out a lot. I do remember that the time I did get never seemed to be enough, I always wanted more from him and my mom. Not more stuff or any material thing, I wanted more time and when I couldn’t get it I would hit very anxious spots which eventually led to some depressive spots where I actually would stop spending time with either of my parents. I still regret shutting them out to this day.

Somewhere in the middle of all those dark thoughts and lingering anxiety I had a moment of pure joy. My Dad had just picked me up from school on Friday, which was something he did twice a month, and for some reason he had this look on his face of genuine happiness, happiness to see his kids on a gorgeous spring day. And for once in a very long time I felt that happiness when I saw my dad, it was practically radiating off of him and as we hit the highway with the windows down and his cassette player blaring, it was contagious! I couldn’t stop smiling and singing every song with him, I didn’t care how off-key we were or how annoying it must have been to any passerby, we just drove and sang. I’m sure if we would’ve missed our turn it wouldn’t have mattered we could have kept going till his ugly blue minivan ran out of gas.

Looking back on that I realize that was a major turning point and was a cornerstone for the relationship I wanted to have with my dad. And it became easier and easier to be with my dad. I could share my feelings of happiness and my hope for the future and I could share my sadness and my fear for my future. It felt right, it felt true and for the first time in a year I saw my dad as he was. He was just as nervous about this whole situation as I was and there was comfort in that. As the year wore on I found myself loving the time I spent with my dad and I discovered ways to enjoy and find peace in any day, even on the days where I’m down on luck and brains I can find some peace, as long as my family or friends are there to share it with me.

I think that the new way I see my Dad is the way I want to see him, I’m not nervous about my lack of time with him because any time I do spend with him is precious.

Here’s where that blue minivan comes into play, as the months wore on that minivan sure made the rounds. Driving my dad to and from work every day and coming to get us twice a month really adds up and pretty soon, rusted pieces and flakes of paint were falling off every day. So what did we do? Well, we spray painted the rusted parts black of course! Along with a cool new pair of eyeballs on the front, we had the cosmetics down. That thing lasted for more months after that and sure it wasn’t winning any performance awards anytime soon, it did its job. But as all good things do this would come to an end. As the year was drawing to a close, me and my brother would receive the news, our friend Blue as we had begun to affectionately call her had met her match. In the form of a sturdy oak tree, death would strike our old pal. Apparently, the vans parking brake had gone out,( who would’ve guessed) and it just rolled down a 30-foot hill and smacked straight into a tree. I guess that kinda capped off my first year of my parents split and I was able to go through and relive those memories while writing this piece. I enjoyed it.