it was summer... but all great stories begin that way... this was is no different... just slow to speak... slow to come... slow to leave... this is the story of four little girls and the turning point of life...
my heart recalls very well the details of that day... it was hot and dry... a great day for a family cookout... daddy had picked us up that weekend to spend quality time.. so many times before he had broken his promise... but to young minds this man was gold... how careless he had been... how unkind... how selfish... but never in thier eyes... never in thier hearts... today was a good day... he had come... they were glad... he saved the day as mother waved goodbye... with remorse in her heavy laiden heart... she would no longer have this burden to bear... but her children would... her small fragile girls... but today was a good day...
we spent the day with daddy... we played and there was not a care in the world... nothing could bring us down... a weekend getaway from our dull lives of poverty... how nieve we were... we played happily with our sister's things... things he bought her... what about our happiness... our things... our love... but time would tell... as day slipped into night... the grill flared and smoked... we swam in the pool and cooled while he prepared our meal... a cool breeze blew between the trees down by the man-made oasis in the backyard... over the bridge made to cross the koy-pond... we watched as our senses were tingled and teased by the smell of chicken being seared and smoked under the red grill hood... daddy was handsome and he gave me a smooth grin as he explained why his Q was better than the rest... after dinner we fell asleep silently... fullfilled and satisfied from hunger... physical and spiritual...
the next day we awake to get dressed for church... the smell of pancakes and sausages filled the air... we piled into dad's bronco... he drove fast to make morning devotion... we held on tight as whoas and squeals came from the back seat... we were more fascinated than scared... we were ushered into service and soon noticed dad was not there... probably outside taking a smoke... something he knew i did not agree with... i thought to myself i would remember to throw the renegade pack away after we returned to daddy's house... soon service ended and we left church with out daddy... not a word was said on the drive back... my step-mother fed us dinner and put us to bed... still silent we lay... not knowing what we would soon find out... in the middle of the floor we all lay still... listening to the radio playing immature's "sweetest love"... the door creaked back open and an explaination soon followed... our little minds whirled and hearts broke... she explained how daddy was not superman... he was an imperfect human... lost in the maze of drugs sent to destroy all who fell into its trap... he was a walking plague... a slave of poison... to alittle girl's heart... it was too much... the night was long and painful... and silent...
the next day we awake... packed our belongings... and said goodbye to our dream... to our vision of a perfect getaway... to our hero... with solemn faces we greated our mother... that day our mother eased our minds as only she could... but it would never be enough to erse the pain inflicted on our tiny hearts and minds... even as a grown woman that night never leaves my mind... it's still fresh in my memory... i still feel the cool breeze... hear the laughter... smell the bbQ smoke...
but what about the title... what does it mean... many things... why did my step-mother tear out my small soul that day... so many questions... but all great stories end that way... slow to speak... slow to come... slow to leave... i will never forget that weekend... i will never forget what it meant... the wounds inflicted on a little girl's life... i will never forget... the feelings... the visions... the sounds... the smell of bbQ smoke...
