Of hellos and goodbyes

I rarely spoke about him.

There was a time when things were fine, when I was young. I used to like squeezing into the couch with him and watch TV together. I also remember the times I used to stand on his feet, with him walking the walk, and my hands in his. Its strange how memories can be erased so easily.........

I've avoided talking about him for as long as I can remember, even to my closest friends. No, he did not commit murder nor any heinous crime the world has witnessed. He gambled the family fortune away. He gambled away his money, and borrowed more money to gamble. He was not those wife beating, children bashing alcoholic gambling addict portrayed in drama serials, but he did leave my Mum to face the music when the moneylenders came knocking. This was the one thing I could not tolerate. The day you fail to protect your family is the day you lose the respect of others. My respect for him got lost along the way and never found its way back. A man needs to take responsibility for his actions: that's our job, no questions asked.

We emerged physically unscathed, but emotionally wrecked. A family weaved together by happiness and warmth was reduced to incomplete reunion dinners and phone calls filled only with pregnant pauses, hellos and goodbyes.

I don't hate him, don't be mistaken. I don't think I can, or ever will. He has become someone so distant that I'm afraid that one day I might wake up and not remember his existence.