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The Bottle & The Nutcracker

A Father & Daughter Annual Moment

By Amanda WilsonPublished 3 years ago 27 min read
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Every year when the cold starts to crawl across the nation, and the warmth runs away out of its grasp, the same memory always pops up. I'm tempted to do the same thing each time but I always do the same thing every year and hold off until December 1st. I have always felt that if I strayed outside of that particular date that it would be a betrayal to some degree. I know its irrational but sometimes it really feels that severe.

My childhood was not a difficult one by any means. My family wasn't rich but we weren't dirt poor either. Kind of on the high end of poor but still poor. I had toys, clothes, food, and everything else a child cares about. I lived with my Mom and my big brother. My mother worked a lot and my brother left every year to go to college. I also remember my big sister visiting whenever she got the chance outside of holidays and special occasions. The only thing that was missing was my father. It honestly never really occurred to me that he was missing from my life until a school event happened and my mother showed up to support me. A classmate asked me where my dad was and I had no answer to give. Thinking back on it now, I can't honestly remember what I even gave as an answer, or if I shrugged my shoulders or not. But at that moment, it hit me. Where is my dad? Why isn't he here? Surely he knows about the school even, right?

I never asked my mother about it. I wasn't sure how to approach it. I just kept thinking maybe he is gone somewhere like how my big brother leaves all the time and he just hasn't come back home yet. Then it occurred to me that maybe he was dead. Could I be fatherless? Well, when I turned nine, my mother had to have an emergency medical procedure done. This caused her to lose work and unable to pay bills. Her temporary disability from her job at the time was not processed and she went several weeks without any sort of compensation to support us. We ended up moving in with my big sister and her husband and children. Seeing them having a father around made me wonder again as to where mine was. Again, I didn't have the nerve to provoke.

One thing lead to another and my mother, brother and I moved out of my sisters house, but we had been evicted from our previous home by the landlord. I didn't understand what any of that meant at the time. I didn't know what it meant that a check bounced. I just remember thinking why couldn't the landlord just pick it up? Did it bounce and fall behind the fridge? We needed to move again. My mom was still recovering from her surgery, nearly dying from the experience. My brother left college to try to help but he was still so young and it was too much on his plate.

"We're going on a plane. Here, take this gum and chew it on the launch and the landing or your ears will pop." My mom said as we pulled up to this huge building in my sisters van. There were so many cars around and so much activity. I remember the warmth on my face as we got out. Mom had to be in a wheelchair. She still couldn't walk. Brother grabbed our things. I carried my favorite stuffed puppy. Sister helped Mom out of the van and into a wheelchair provided by this looming building we were about to enter.

Once inside, I remember so much noise and activity. Sister had me hold the handle of the wheelchair with her and stay nearby. "Don't let go." She said. Firmly, but with a smile. I never let go. It felt like we walked forever. They stared at screens with numbers and names of places and things. It smelled weird, like something was lingering that wouldn't go away. I still didn't understand what was going on but I was doing as I was told. Where were we going? Why were we getting a plane? Should Mom be on a plane? Does my Dad know we are going on a plane? I got so excited when I suddenly got this thought that we were going to my dad for help. Maybe he lives far away and that's why I never see him, like in the movies! Surely, this must be what we are doing. And my sister gets to come with and see him. I thought it would be so cool to show off my dad to her and brother.

We are coming to this huge set of doors and sister says "Okay, lets get a hug. Let go." I let go of the handle. She knelt down and hugged me. It was the longest hug I had ever had before. She seemed sad out of nowhere. But why? She gets up and her and brother hug. Then she hugged mom. I don't remember what they said to each other, but sister nodded. She had a smile on her face but a tear going down her cheek. Now she was crying? "Come on, Amanda." Brother said. He took the handles of the wheelchair and started to walk. I rushed to grab the handle like before and followed.

The sun blinded me as we stepped out of the large doors onto concrete. There was a huge plane just parked out there like no one's business and stairs leading up to them. People were standing outside of the stairs, watching us and waiting. I looked around and it hit me that sister was not with us. I let go of the handle and turned around. We were far away from the door now. She stood there on the other side of it. I could barely make out her facial expression. She saw me looking and she smiled and waved, still crying. "Wait!" I shouted. "Why isn't Michelle coming with us? Mom! We have to tell them to let her come outside, she is still trapped inside!" I begged and wanted to run back to the door. I didn't understand why she wasn't able to come with us.

My brother called out to me and said to come on again. I turned away from my sister and saw my mother and brother waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned down and did something to the wheelchair on either side of it and stepped around to the front of it facing mom. They held hands and she stood up out of the wheelchair. "Amanda, hurry!" He shouted again. He seemed frustrated. I ran to them. A nice lady helped my mother up the stairs while a man took the wheelchair away. My brother grabbed my hand and forced me to walk with him up the stairs behind mom. I tried to crane my neck back to see Michelle in the distance. It was too bright. I could barely see her, waving still. The last time I saw her, she was crying. Why didn't I tell her goodbye? Why didn't anyone tell me she wasn't going with?

Five years later, we are still in Indiana. We flew up here from Florida. We lived with my grandparents for a bit in a small town. When mom got better, we moved to another city further north in Indiana. By this point, I had finally decided to provoke the conversation and ask about my dad. I never saw him anywhere. I learned by this point that we were coming up here to live with my grandparents so they could help us get back on our feet. They even paid for the plane tickets. "Why do you want to know about him?" "Because he is my dad... Is he even still alive?" Mom seemed so upset that I had the audacity to even mention him to her.

"Well, he ain't here but he is alive." "Well then, where is he?" "Back in Florida." I broke down immediately, asking her why I never got to see him? She snapped back at me and said that "the phone works both ways. He had our address and only lived about 15 minutes away, but did he ever visit?" She shook her head angrily. "You don't need to worry about him, Amanda. He obviously didn't feel like being a father. He could have visited you whenever he wanted but he didn't. No phone calls. No letter. Nothing. You never got a gift either. No birthday or Christmas cards. Nothing." She wanted the conversation closed. So, that's it then. He didn't want me? Did I do something wrong? Maybe he hurt mom. She clearly doesn't want to discuss it any further so I can't find out right now. I'll leave it be for now with her.

A few months went by and I was getting close to turning 15. I really couldn't get my mind off it. What was so wrong that he couldn't have at least spent time with me, regardless of how he felt about mom? I have to know but I don't know how to get ahold of him. I don't even have a cell phone or an address so I can't write a letter. No access to a computer and internet to look up information about him either. All I have is his name and that he lives in the same city in Florida where I was born. I can't ask mom, she won't give me anymore information on him. She refuses. So where to go from here?

Mom and brother were going to leave to do some birthday shopping for me. Only a couple of weeks left before the big day. "I'm leaving this here this time. I don't know how long we will be gone. If something happens or there is an emergency, call your brother's phone." She handed me her cell phone. I nodded and she left. I left the phone in the living room and went to my room. After a few minutes, I went back out to it and grabbed it. I had no idea how long I had but this was worth a shot. Will I get caught? No. I will delete the call history. I dialed my sister's number who still lived in Florida. She was pleased to hear from me.

After a moment of pleasantries, "Hey. Could you grab your phone book?" "Sure, why?" I paused... "Can you, uh... Look up my father's number and address for me?" She sounded happy, "It's about dang time. One minute, little sister." I got so excited out of nowhere. I rushed to my room with the phone in hand to get something to write down his information on. She found it quickly and was positive it was him. I wrote it down and thanked her, begging her to please not tell Mom we talked. "Then delete the call history. I won't say a word, I promise." "I'm way ahead of you on that." The call ended and I deleted it immediately.

There it was in black and white - his name, address, and phone number. My heart raced at the thought of calling him. Or no, perhaps I should write a letter. But... What would I say? Would he even get it? Would he respond? If he did respond, I would have to haunt the mailbox and try to catch the mail before mom checked it or she would find out. Noises outside. They're home. Dang. Missed opportunity. Maybe a friend at school would let me use their phone. I'll figure it out. I put it back and went back to my room.

A few days later, mom and my brother were going to leave again. They wanted to get a few more things for my birthday tomorrow and my cake. She was leaving the cell phone again. "We will be gone about an hour, maybe longer. We are also going to grab some lunch for all of us." I nodded again. She didn't repeat herself about the emergency stuff, knowing that I already knew. Out the door they went. I watched them like a hawk out the window as they got into the car. I watched them pull away. There have been times in the past they have immediately returned, realizing they left something that they needed. I grabbed dad's info from my secret hiding spot in a small crevice in my closet shelf. Back to the living room, I looked out the window again. No sign of them. I should be clear.

I stared at the phone like it was a predator and I was out in the woods all by myself with no weapon in hand. This was it. What if this is the wrong number and my sister was mistaken? What if its the right one and there's no answer? Would I leave a voicemail? Should I? Five minutes went by, still staring at the phone. I glanced out the window one more time out of paranoia. No more stalling. I grabbed the cell phone, cleared my throat and dialed the number. As it rang, I panicked. I can still hang up. No answer yet, just hang up and forget about it. He never called or visited before, why would he care now? Its not too late. Hang up. Hang up!

A woman answered with "Hello?" I don't know why, but I got so angry that a woman answered. Like who is this female answering my dad's phone? His new wife that he cares more about than my mom? She said it again. I realized I was lost in my thoughts and hadn't answered her. "Hello. Is Mister Bushey available?" My heart was pounding so harshly, I literally felt it in my ears. "Yeah, sure, one minute." Silence. Oh my god. He is available. This is his number. He will be on the line any moment now. What do I do? I can still hang up! My chest started to hurt. Noises outside. I dang near tripped rushing to look out the window. Just the neighbors. Palms getting sweaty. And here I always thought that was just an expression, not a real thing.

"Hello?" A man's voice on the phone. I cleared my throat. Why did I do that? I just did that a moment ago. "Hi." "Yes?" He sounded confused. I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "This is... Your... Daughter." "Amanda?!" He shouted into the phone. "Oh my god, I have been looking for you! Are you okay?" What was he talking about? "Um.. yeah... I'm fine. Why?" "This hurricane has been so destructive. When I went by your house to check to make sure you were okay, the windows are boarded up and no one was home. I even contacted the red cross for help but they refused to tell me anything." Oh, that's right. They were just hit by a really bad hurricane less than a week ago.

I explained to him that I was fine. Not affected by it at all considering we are up here in Indiana. He was utterly floored by that information. He had no idea mom had moved me up here. It upset him. This was so confusing. How could it upset him if he didn't care enough to come by? He asked if I was going to get into trouble for calling him? "Why would I get into trouble?" I knew the answer on my mom's side but I wanted to know what the reason would be to him as to why I would get into trouble. "Your mom hates me. If she knew you were calling me right now, I'm sure you would be in a lot of trouble and possibly never allowed to call me again. Every attempt I made at visiting you, she always met me outside and made me leave with the threat of bringing police into it." Wait... What? Mom was the reason?

I had so many questions for him, but not enough time to ask them. I gave him our address. "I will be up there soon and will see you." "Soon?" "Yes, I will make it up there around labor day. Oh wait, tomorrow is your birthday right?" He remembered my birthday? "Yes." "Great. Happy early birthday. I will send you a card. It takes a few days to get there and the mail has already ran today for me, so I will send it out tomorrow. Be on the lookout for it. If your mom gets ahold of it, she might not let you have it." "Will do." He sounded so happy to talk to me, it floored me. It confused me but it was such a relief. Noises again. They're home. Had it really been that long already?

I panicked and told him they are home. I have to go. He told me "I love you, munchkin. We will talk again soon, I promise. I'm so sorry I haven't been there." "I love you too... dad." Deleted call history, phone back where it belongs and ran to my room like I was sprinting in a marathon. I could hear them coming up there stairs of our apartment building as I ran down the hall, trying hard not to trip. Barely made it to my door as I heard the front door unlocking from the outside.

I shut my door, pressed against it and slid down to my butt on the floor. My heart thudded so viciously and I couldn't catch my breath. I could feel myself smiling. I couldn't stop. I finally spoke with him. I heard his voice. He told me he loved me. Could this be a dream? My dad is real and he is out there. And I will get to see him! Labor day. When is that? I crawled over to my bed and reached into my nightstand for the personal calendar my brother had bought me earlier this year. It was actually a planner but I never really used it. There it is. Two months. That's it. Just shy of 60 days away. I literally counted it. My mind began to fill in images, trying to figure out what he looks like. How old is he? Is he big, small, fat, skinny, muscular, or lanky? Does he have facial hair? What color are his eyes? What does he smell like? I could hear my mom calling for me. I left my room and joined her in the kitchen to help put groceries away. She kept my cake hidden in a bag so I wouldn't spoil the surprise. "What's got you smiling from ear to ear?" "Oh, I finally beat a boss on my game that I have been trying to beat all week." "Oh, well that's good, I guess." She left it alone at that. And so did I. Little did she know.

Fast forward. I did manage to get that card. But mom found out about it one day, a week later. She was very upset that I went behind her back and used her phone. She did the math herself. It didn't take much because in the card, dad wrote "I really hope you didn't get into too much trouble calling me. You are right and do deserve to know me and I deserve to know you. I can't wait to see you in September." So, I explained to her that he was coming up here from Florida to see me around Labor day. She was not happy but wouldn't prevent it. Dad and I were allowed to talk on the phone a few more times before his trip. We were going to meet at a 7-Eleven parking lot right next to our neighborhood. Much easier to find than our apartment building with GPS back then. I was told to look for a red PT cruiser with no spoiler on the back. Suddenly, I was noticing more of those cars and none of them pulled into the parking lot. It drove me insane, standing there waiting for him when Labor day weekend hit.

I convinced my mother to let me meet him on my own on the condition that I did bring him back to the apartment to her. She wanted to lay eyes on him as well and talk. I agreed to it because I felt like I really had no choice. He had called a few minutes beforehand to let me know he was close. I rushed over, hair still wet from a shower I took. I told him what color shirt I would be wearing. My best shirt that looked so cool, like flames were consuming me. I was a tomboy back then (still kind of am) and I wasn't afraid to dress like it, even with meeting dad for the first time.

There it was. A vehicle matching his description had its turn signal on to enter the parking lot from main street. Traffic delayed him turning. I stood there, watching his car. My heart raced as it successfully turned and pulled into a parking spot. I stayed where I had chosen to stand. I watched carefully as an older man got out of the vehicle and as soon as our eyes locked, he smiled from ear to ear and lifted an arm inviting me over to him. I walked up. The first thing he did was reach out, pulling me in for the second longest hug I have ever had in my life. I wanted to cry. I didn't want him to let go. I didn't want to let go of him. We separated. His eyes were a pretty shade of green and brown... they were hazel, just like mine! Mom's eyes were just a straight brown. I finally had a face to match the voice I heard for the first time a couple of months ago. He really made it up here. He drove all the way up here from Florida, just to see me.

I got in the car with him. I gave him directions to our apartment building. He told me about the drive up here while we weaved through the streets of our neighborhood and parked. As he climbed the stairs, he commented on his knees. He wasn't as young as he used to be. He turned 60 earlier this year. My mother was 62. They had me really late in life for them at the ages of 43 and 45, respectfully. I walked him in and my mother and brother stood there, greeting him. They hugged like old friends, which really confused me. I was hurt hearing my brother say "it's been a long time, Mike. How have you been?" Then to hear my dad reply with "You got taller" hurt more... Wait, so my brother knew my dad, but I didn't? I let it go for now. It didn't matter. He was here. He was really here. I wanted to show him everything. My room, my drawings, my grades and school work. I wanted to show off that I was doing well and had talent. I wanted to play my violin for him. I wanted to do everything possible while he was here.

He only had enough time off work to be up here for a couple of days. So today was it and he was leaving tomorrow morning. He wanted to stay longer but he didn't have a choice. He convinced my mom to let him take me out to the nearest Wal-mart to buy me some stuff and go on a walk with me at the local park, even possibly get a bite to eat. He bought me my very own computer and gave me $200 saying "Here, tell your mother to get internet. I'll pay for it. I'll give you my email. This way, no matter what, you can always contact me." He was everything I had hoped for.

When we went on our walk to the local park nearby, we sat on a swinging bench and talked a lot. "You know, munchkin, when I found out your mom was pregnant with you, I was scared but excited. I thought I was done having kids. I remember the day very clearly when I found out. It was December 1st, 1989." He went on about this story that his father told him that he did every time he found out his wife was pregnant. He would settle down with a nice glass of red wine, rose, and some walnuts still in the shell. So, when he found out he was going to be a dad again, he bought a bottle of red wine, walnuts, and a nice steel nutcracker. Just the kind that looks like two legs connected at the top, not one that's mounted to a countertop or a board. He drank some red wine and enjoyed the nuts. Ever since then, every year on December 1st, he does the same thing.

It amazed me that he made a tradition out of what his father used to do. He knew that I would be his last child he would ever have, so he made it an annual tradition on the same date every year. "This year, although your still young, I will be back up here on December 1st and we can share a bit of wine and walnuts together. Just one glass, nothing more. Just me and you, munchkin." He smiled and hugged me as we swung on the bench. "Okay, then every year you can't make it up here, I will do it without you, knowing that you are doing it in Florida so we will be doing it at the same time. Oh, and I can call you so we can chat on the phone while we share the experience, even states away." He laughed and said "Sounds like a plan!"

I didn't know much about wine. I loved nuts but I always thought that wine went with cheese, not nuts. Even in movies that I had seen, television shows and even comics, it was always wine and varieties of cheese that went well with whatever wine you were drinking. Something about the flavors complimenting each other. So, I thought it was odd, but wanted to try it.

Sure enough, a few months later, he made it up here again. We went to the kitchenette in his hotel room after he bought what was needed and sat there. I remember the pretty color of the wine as he poured it into a small clear glass. No ice. Just the wine. Chilled already. He poured the walnuts he bought out of the bag into a bowl and handed me one of the two steel nutcrackers he bought. "This one is yours. Don't ever lose it." I nodded. I remember smelling the wine. It was an odd smell. We clinked the glasses together as he smiled at me. "To you." He said. He drank a bit, just a sip really, and cracked open a walnut and ate it. I copied him.

It was bitter but fruity at the same time. I remember not really liking the taste at first. The nut tasted great and it changed the flavor on my tongue for when I took another sip. He told me to sip it. Don't gulp. And hold it on your tongue for a moment before you swallow. He playfully swished it around in his mouth when he took another sip. "Now, on the years I can't make it up here, since you aren't old enough, have your mother or brother buy it for you. I already talked to them about it and they are fine with it as long as its only one glass and only this one day a year. I even told them what kind to get and to get you walnuts in the shell with it." "Understood." Glasses mostly empty, nuts mostly gone, and a long good conversation had gone by before he said that he should get me back home. He has to leave in the morning.

It harped inside of me, so I had to ask. "Why nuts?" He was confused. "Well, aren't you supposed to have cheese with wine?" He laughed and nodded. "Most people do. But nuts go well with wines also. Some people like pecans or almonds with theirs. I prefer walnuts. They don't do as much for the flavor of the wine as other nuts, but walnuts are my favorite so that's what I eat with it. For me, it's the perfect pair." I remember how white his teeth were as he smiled at me. "Come on, munchkin. Let's get you home before your mom gets angry with me for keeping you out too long from the apartment." He gave me the rest of the walnuts and reminded me to not lose that nutcracker. I agreed and thanked him.

My father made it up to Indiana every other year. One the years he couldn't, my mom surprisingly kept her promise to him and got me the same red wine, walnuts and her cell phone to use to call him while I was in my room until I got my own cell phone. Years have passed by and I'm a married woman now with several children of my own. When I found out from my doctor that a single glass of wine was okay while pregnant, I would have a glass with some walnuts each time I found out and on December 1st of that same year.

Last year my father was supposed to visit again and make it by December 1st. On his way up here, his machine he wore while he slept due to his sleep apnea was acting up. He always took a couple of days with each trip so he could be in a hotel room with an outlet to sleep next to so he wouldn't die in his sleep. He woke up one morning in Kentucky, bloated. There was something wrong with the gauge on the machine where it thought he wasn't getting enough air and it was pumping more out. He said it made his stomach hurt. He couldn't handle another night of it. He was sorry, but he had to turn around and go back to Florida. "Maybe next year, munchkin." He told me on the phone as he apologized.

A few weeks later, on December 23rd, I got a call around 5 in the afternoon. My sister from my dad's side was crying. She said he wasn't feeling good today and was using his inhaler more often. She had made him lunch and he was playing his favorite card gave on his old desktop. She took her lunch to her room to watch a show while she ate and she fell asleep for a couple of hours. When she came out of the room, he wasn't at his computer. She went to the kitchen and found him there, lying on the ground face down. He was gone. She was asleep just down the hall and he had a heart attack and fell to his death on the kitchen floor. The coroners are on their way and cops are there. She isn't allowed in the house. They are treating it like a crime scene. She didn't know what to do and she was breaking down. He was gone. He was really gone.

Here it is, sitting at November. Less than a month away. I have already bought the wine and the walnuts. I still have the nutcracker he bought me 15 years ago. I will wait. I will wait until December 1st. I can still taste it in my mouth, the flavors dancing together on my tongue. The memories that it brings back with each sip I have taken. The familiar cracking as the shell of the walnuts buckle under my grip. His voice either next to me or over the phone. But not this year. No phone call. His voice won't accompany this perfect pair this time. It brings tears to my eyes even still, although it's been almost a year now since his passing. I know he would want me to continue this little tradition of his that he took the time to share with me every year for the past 15 years. My oldest daughter asked me about the bottle I bought. All I could think of to tell her was "December 1st, honey. I will tell you all about it."

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