At the age of 14/15 something major happened in my life, my Dad came back.
I am not clear on how he made contact, I think it may have been something to do with my amazing Bampi (Grandfather) but can’t be sure. I remember him coming back clearly though, he was with his girlfriend, the one I have spoken about so they must have reunited when he went on his own journey.
My sisters and I were happy about his return but also very wary and cautious of putting to much faith in him. We’d go out for lunches with them and on shopping trips. He got my fist pair of Vans so I was ecstatic (I never skated but loved the skater boys and Avril Lavigne…). There were a few hard words spoken between a couple of my sisters and my Dad so it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine but it was so good to have my Dad back. I’ve always had a forgiving nature if people show change so was probably the easiest to win over, although I definitely don’t see this as a bad thing.
My mother was especially wary of my Dad and his girlfriend so there were some difficult chats with her. It shook her up as she was the one who fought for us back and raised us for these years and she now felt ‘second best’. This was not the case but my Dad was definitely a shiny novelty for us so we did gush over time spent with him. She became very unwell soon after his return and became hospitalised one very harrowing night. She wasn’t in for long, a few weeks perhaps? But my little sister and I went to live with my Dad and his girlfriend for a while. My little sister was in her element as she got to spend weekends with my Dad on their bikes and I was in mine going shopping, for meals, girly days and cinema trips with his girlfriend.
I missed my mother terribly but the peace of not jumping when the cutlery drawer opened was amazing so the time away was necessary. I was getting full nights sleep and doing very well at school. My little sister moved back to my Mams sooner than I did, a couple of months sooner. She wanted to be nearer to my Mam and her friends. I was bonding with my Dad and his girlfriend more and more.
My choice to move home came later, after I broke it off with my then boyfriend and made a few new friends. We liked to do things like going camping (aka. drinking in a tent by a bonfire in the woods) so I wanted to be closer to them. My mother was also getting more and more upset that I wasn’t home with her so that massively swayed me too. I was happy to be back but knew that the good times wouldn’t last for much longer, my mother was spiralling again.