Memories are fading and merging. Not touching them, seeing them or hearing them, he holds on to them through photos and pain. A complex form of loss: not just then, but now and ongoing. A loss that has taken on its own rhythm and pattern: out of sight, out of his mind. Deeply yearning for them, there is no relief. They take on ghostly qualities, occupying spaces other than memory. They are deep within his body as well as outside of him. There is no way to reach them. Which way does he turn?
The picture could be her, or it could be someone else’s child. But it’s not just that it could be her. Slightly apart from the other children, her body and head hang in a way that mirror his dejection. It is not that it could be her, it’s because he can’t reach her.
Do they remember him? Are they missing him? Maybe they are waiting patiently. Maybe they ask questions about him sometimes, but they are learning not to too much as well.
“I don’t see enough of you dad”, said the 6-year-old one visit, just before they are bundled into the car. Their faces are turned towards the window, but as the car spins away, they are looking in the wrong direction. Their heads spin, but it is too late, the car has turned around the bend in the road, and they are gone.
Venfegul mothers leave good fathers powerless to see child
Third of children never see dad after a divorce
