She's also tried to run him off the road with a van and he laughs
Dad was close to remarrying once. Her name was Barb and they were together for nearly five years. She was hit by a drunk driver and died in Dad's arms, December 26th, 1998. He went a little crazy after that and I didn't see him much. And then he moved to Florida. He doesn't mention her much anymore, but he still drinks from the mug that says "Alaska" that he bought while he was on vacation with her, and he still keeps her pictures in a photo album on his kitchen table, and a picture of her daughter on the fridge. I can see loneliness in his eyes sometimes, especially when he stares out of the window, sipping his coffee.
I don't like to leave him, but after visiting for a couple of hours, I have to go back to my own world. He directs me on how to drive out of his driveway, which goes in a loop and is higher on one end than the other. He doesn't want me to get stuck, even though there is only a thin layer of snow on the ground. "Come in from that end, its higher, and you'll be able to drive out easier." "Okay dad." I hug him and watch him hobble back toward his house. He watches me as I drive away, though. I wonder how different things could've been, before I head out of the woods and back toward my own life.
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