Fights to Remember

Like most parents, mine fought. Not all the time, and not so much as I got older, but I can still remember a few particularly bad ones. They usually revolved around my dad's habits. Mind you, he was never into anything stronger than whisky or cigarettes...but my mom was not okay with it. First of all, you have to understand my parents were LDS, or Mormon. My mom was raised in the church and my dad was converted in his late thirties. Now my dad had smoked cigarettes all of his life, and when he married my mom he promised to try to quit, especially since they eventually wanted to get married in an LDS temple, which you cannot have habits like smoking in order to be worthy to go to one. When I was born he definitely made strides toward quitting. He'd make it anywhere from few months, to even a year or two. If and when he got caught sneaking a smoke though, my mom was absolutely furious. Then, there was drinking. My dad was not a 'drunk', not even a little. But, on occasion, if he did drink he would get drunk and my mom hated that too. 

My dad is also manic depressive, which is a serious mental illness that borders schizophrenia. Drinking made this much worse. It would make my dad go manic and that made him say and do funny things that put himself and those around him in danger.

----New Years Eve, approx. 1997

Tonight started out very fun. We played games and drank sparkling cider, we watched the ball drop on TV, and then my favorite part- we went outside and banged on our pots and pans and shouted "HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!" The neighbors don't even get mad because everyone makes noise tonight. Now, I'm laying in my bed with my mom. Daddy is out in the hall way and he's been walking and talking funny because of what he drank, my mom says. He just fell down but my mom says she doesn't want to help him because it's his own fault. She says he ruined the holiday and she is crying. I don't know why she is upset, I think he is kind of funny even though I liked it better before he got this way. But she is very mad at him and says he has to sleep on the couch for a while. I'm tired and I just want to sleep and want mommy to stop crying.

----Approx. 1997

Mom found more of daddy's drinks in the cupboard tonight. He has been drinking them without telling her and she is screaming at him. He is screaming back because she took all of his bottles and dumped them in the sink. He says she is pouring money down the drain. She is calling him names that I'm not allowed to say and telling him he needs to leave our house. I start crying because I don't want daddy to leave, I want him to stay and tuck me in tonight. I really hate it when they fight and I don't like it when they scream so loud at each other. My mom says he is drunk and if he doesn't leave she will call the police. She pushes him too the door and I try to tug on her shirt to tell her to stop it but they aren't listening to me. My dad is shoving my mom back and hits her on the head. I think it was an accident because he is saying he is sorry and he didn't mean to but now my mom is even more upset and she is walking out of the house. I tell her to stop and not to leave me but she is already gone. Now I am crying even more and daddy is trying to calm me down. He says not to worry and we will find mommy and bring her back home. Daddy calls the police and says that his wife is missing. After the police come and they are about to leave in their cars with the lights to look for her, my mom comes back into our driveway and tells the policemen she just went out to sit in the car and that they can leave and everything is fine. We go to sleep in my bed and daddy is sleeping on the couch again.

----Approx. 1998

My mom tells me she needs to have a talk with me. She says that some of our neighbors have heard her and daddy fighting and they have called the police and told on them. She says that a social lady is coming to talk to me to see if I am being well taken care of. I think this is silly because I am the best taken care of girl in the world. My mom and dad fight a lot lately, but they still love me and they always make up in a couple of days. Mom says if the lady thinks that her and dad fight too much that they will take me away to live with someone else, she says the lady will ask me questions about them and if I am happy. She says that I need to be careful what I say. I tell her not to worry because I love her and I am happy and I don't want to leave her and daddy. She says she is sorry. I don't know why she says this. The lady comes, she is nice and we talk and she leaves. We never hear from her again and I get to stay with mom and dad.

----Approx. 2001

I'm walking home from school. I have just turned into my circle when I see my dad sitting in his usual spot on our porch. He is disabled so he can't work. I don't mind because it means he is always home when I come home from school. He doesn't see me when I turn the corner into our circle and when I see him my stomach drops. I think I see him bring something to his lips but I'm not sure. He finally sees me and stands up sort of quick. He waves as I walk through our gate. I walk over to give him a hug and kiss and yep...there it is. The smell of cigarette smoke. I don't say anything as I walk in the house but I have tears in my eyes as I walk up the stairs to my room. I can't believe it. It's been, what? Two years now? I thought he was done...he promised. I try to forget about it, maybe I smelled wrong. And saw wrong. Maybe he wasn't, maybe the smell is from the neighbors. When my mom comes home, I can't help it, I mention what happened earlier, but tell her I'm not sure. Her face turns to stone and she calls my dad to come upstairs. "Robert. Tell me the truth. Have you been smoking?" My dad looks like a deer in the headlights. "Damn it Robert, have you been smoking?" Silence. "No..." "Tell me the truth! Don't you dare lie to me!" Pause. "Yes." All hell breaks loose. In an instant my mom is on a rampage, searching every nook and cranny until she finally finds two Camel packs buried underneath some towels in the laundry room. First things first, she's flushing those suckers down the toilet. Next comes the screaming. I go to my room because I want no part in what's about to go down. She is packing up all my dad's expensive cologne and tossing out off the balcony. I hear the glass shatter. She is storming through the house screaming about how selfish my dad is and how could he and she can't trust him and he doesn't love us...he is trying to defend himself saying today really was the first day he broke down, that he hadn't been lying to her and he was going to stop after he finished the packs. Obviously this is no consolation to my mom. A few hours later my mom has calmed down. She and I are watching Diagnosis Murder on TV and my dad is downstairs listening to the radio. I want to go down and tell him I still love him even though I'm hurt, but then my mom will be upset at me. It's going to be a long week.

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For the record, my dad has been smoke free for about ten years now. He also doesn't drink anymore, though he still attends regular A.A. meetings. I think he does it more for the company rather than the actual support. My dad says the reason he stopped smoking was because I had told him, probably shortly after that last cheery memoir, that if he smoked again I wouldn't talk to him until I was 21. Well, I'm 21 now, I can't remember saying that to him and I probably wouldn't have stuck to it (I just felt so bad for him and my mom always got angry enough for the both of us). Anyway, fights like those happened semi often as a child, and though it could have been much worse, I'll never forget them. Though my mom often threatened divorce, I don't think she would have ever left my dad. They loved each other so much. He was just dumb sometimes, men do dumb things, and she was easily angry with him. I don't think they could have lived without one another though, and I know he misses her more than he lets on.