A Weekend Away

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. As the snow crunched underneath our tires, my mind was racing. Who was this person, that out of the blue decided to reconnect with me? That decided I was worth their time after so many years away. The better question was of course, how could I enter this relationship again, knowing how badly I ended up hurting last time I tried to rekindle this relationship. This time will be different, I continued to tell myself. Outside of the car the evergreens were glistening inthe sun. It looked like one of those glittery snowballs, you know the ones. The blue sky above still seemed enormous, towering over the ancient pine forest where our cabin retreat, where we could spend the next 48 hours.

The only thing that was more awkward than the deafining silence between us two was the only radio station we could pick up on. The host was getting into the music juuuust a bit too much. The way he was speaking about not only the song but the artist was getting too personal and if there were any other station available up here that could give us a weather update, I would have switched immediately. In fact, I almost decided to shut it off anyway, and take up meteorology myself. It would have been less painful. We hadn't spoken more than three words the entire trip, the only thing that was said were pleasantries when we got into the same car, and it likely would be the only thing said today. Perhaps even the entire weekend. But they broke the silence.

"Have you ever been in these mountains? I used to come skiing here with your grandparents when they were still alive and young enough to go downhilling. We used to rent a cabin not far from here for a few weeks every winter during the holidays. It holds a lot of memories. Hell, I even met your mother up here during one of those trips. I wish we had taken more trips up here as a family, it is a magical place." I couldn't look at him. Inside I was deciding if I was more angry or more sad. I hated when he would lament over the lack of time we spent doing things when I was younger. As if it was my fault, my mothers fault, my sisters fault that he was gone. Like we decided he should go away for so many years.

I didn't give him any ground. My lips were sealed, and our car trudged uphill, as we slowly approached our destination.

Our car groaned as we started down the driveway. It was certainly not the best car, but it sure got the job done. My dad had purchased this old jeep during the early years of my parents relationship. Mom always said he looked so cool with his Jeep. Personally I couldn't see the interest, but this jeep didn't hold good memories for me. I could only picture its absence. An empty parking lot where I would wait, hour after hour for him to pick me up. Those were they days before cell phones were big, and mom would be working late as usual. He would occasionally roll in, smelling of cologne that was too strong and reds, his choice of cigarettes when he would be drunk. He always managed to sober up just enough before he would get me. The teachers and staff never seemed to notice, or never seemed to care that he would be inebriated and in our school building, about to drive me the thirty minutes home. Fortunately for me, this Jeep never picked me up for long, he would disappear for days on end, leaving my mother to pick us up and bring us home. "Your father is sick." She would tell me. Sure, easy to blame this on an accidental twist of fate. Like he never decided to pick up the bottle one day and never set it down. "We just need to be supportive, he is getting help."

She said that until the day she left with us. We didn't say goodbye, it had been a few days since he had been home or called, and mom had us pack a bag and we left. Later we found out he had checked himself into rehab. He was trying to fight this "disease" or what ever he called it. All I knew is that it took him away, and he didn't show up for me ever. This trip showed up out of the blue. He called me from a new phone number, said he was doing well and wanted to talk to me about something. Let me know he had rented a cabin and was driving through, and if I wanted to reconnect, maybe spend a few days together in the woods there would be space. There was someone backing out of going with him last minute, but he didn't want to waste it. Plus, it had been quite a while since we had connected and he had wanted to reach out, but didn't think I would want to have anything to do with him. I still don't know what convinced me to say yes. Some last ditch effort to cling on to this father figure wannabe. So I said yes.

The cabin was actually quite beautiful. The wood had been refinished and it looked like something out of a postcard. Except this was one cabin that you would say 'Wish you weren't here!' to yourself if you were sending this post card. Some how the mere thought of having difficult conversations was ruining this picturesque moment I should have been having. We each grabbed our backpacks and headed into the cabin. We fortunately didn't need to speak to pick our rooms. The cabin handled that for us, complete with the finesse of a speed dating host. Fast and furiously. There was only one bed, which was a queen bed.

"I swear I didn't know it was only one bed. The rental site said two bedrooms, maybe it was incorrect or maybe something happened to the other one. I hope you don't hate the idea of having to bunk together!"

"I think we could figure out how one of us could sleep on the couch instead. " I retorted, not even missing a beat. I can take the couch the first night, and if you decide its too comfortable we can switch."

He sheepishly shuffled into the master bed room, and I could hear him briefly unpacking. I laid on the couch and looked up at the ceiling fan. It clearly was nt for spinning and served more of a decorative function. The only highlight of today was that we had gotten off to such a late start, we both were exhausted. It was far too late for us to get any father-child bonding in, so I figured I would let him (cough*me*cough) rest for the evening and would see him in the morning for coffee. I dozed off quite quickly and as I did, I saw the animals faces start to grin, knowing the punchline far before I realized there was a joke.

The next morning we woke to snow. Lots of snow. Like the amount of snow that makes you feel like hell froze over, leaving a huge collection of frozen demons. Except demons make some sense. This amount of snow makes zero sense. After I woke up, I could hear him drinking coffee, listening to the news report about the amount of snow that was crashing our weekend. "Sounds like we are going to be here for a bit. The snow isn't stopping until tomorrow, and we won't be able to go anywhere by car, good thing we packed enough food for the weekend."

"Here is hoping then, that the snow stops falling and we get to simply enjoy our two days." I poured my own cup of coffee. Black coffee with nothing added was my vice. I could have this for hours. Morning coffee is something of a sacred ritual to me. It allows me to relax and to commence my day before I have to communicate with others. But today there was no such luxury.

"I know you hate me. You have every right to hate me. I have done no right by you and essentially been the worst father to date. I spent all of last night lying awake wondering what I was doing. But here we are, trapped in this cabin for a few extra days. Hopefully I can say my piece." He paused, as if to see if I was registering what he was saying. Determining if what he shared with me was going to stick. If it was going to make our relationship work. "I know that you don't want any more excuses from me. I was never there for you when you were younger and now I have an opportunity, I am not going to blow it. I...I went to rehab again. I am doing well. It has been sixth months since I had a drink, and I don't plan on starting again."

I went outside to catch my breath. Probably not the best way to start off a conversation like this, walking away mid-conversation, without acknowledging this flow of honesty. Words were never my specialty and he most certainly was not perfect at using them. While he could most certainly craft a story, able to convince people of most everything, I had learned to see through his fables. Years of false promises that met my lowest of expectations led to this point. Did I dare give him another chance?

We didn't talk the rest of the day. I spent most of the time wandering into the depths of the woods, spending time covered in snow listening to owls and other manners of ghosts. Haunting calls led me back to the cabin. As I saw the A framed cabin, there was smoke drifting lazily from the chimney. I could see him sitting in front of the fire, staring at the flickering flames. As the sun was setting, there was not much of a choice not to return to the cabin. As I sat down next to him we both watched the flames. They slowly burned down the logs, smoke replacing flames as the evening passed on.

"I don't hate you." I finally spoke. It is all I said for a minute. I had to process and prepare to speak again, and be ready to express how I was feeling. "Its complicated. There were so many times I had wished I could tell you things. Where I needed you. Everytime I ended up hurt more than before. I am so happy for you that you are doing well. That you are feeling better, in a good place. It wil just take time. Time that wounds also results in time I need to process. I need to rebuild trust for you. Trust that I have lost each time you cut me again, or you go back to the bar. Each time I have trusted you I end up feeling like the kid stuck, after swim practice, with my backpack and telling the coach you would just be a few more minutes. Do you know what it is like having to lie to adults? Telling them that you were just around the corner or that you got held up at work? It killed my soul. Each time. But I don't hate you, and I want to try and rebuild our relationship or I wouldn't be here. But for now I am cautious." He sat staring at the embers, a comparison for our relationship. One wrong move they would be extinguished, cold, dark and quiet. But if we were patient and put in the effort and the work, we could see a flame pick back up.

The next morning, we didn't talk much. Nothing much to say, at least much more. When I walked down the stairs however, there was a cup of coffee poured for me. Black, just the way I liked my coffee. Some toast and some eggs were on a plate, staying warm, and smelling fresh. I sat down and dished some food up for myself. We ate in a calm silence listening to the snow fall outside. Its gentle touch barely made a sound but we were able to simply enjoy it. We didn't spoil it with warring words. The snow quit falling shortly after breakfast, leaving a fresh dusting on the tree branches. It looked like a snow globe whenever the breeze blew, sending the dust into the air, glittering throughout the sky. "Do you still like going hiking after the fresh snow falls?" I was surprised. He remembered the mornings where he and I would walk through the ravine near my childhood home. The mornings we would jump out of bed and throw on boots, going trekking through the snow pretending we were Arctic explorers. I don't have many fond memories of him, but this was one.

"Are you up for one?" I replied with a small grin, hoping that he found it inviting. We geared up and walked out the back door, towards a snow covered mountain peak. A moss covered sign laid out instructions for the hiking trail, but we didn't mind it. The structure of our hikes used to be random, wandering in whichever way the wind was blowing. A bird in the distance was our first calling. Not only was it a bird, it was an Eastern Towhee, singing its song, "Look at Me! Look at Me!" We wandered down through the woods, and did our best to spot its reddish orange shoulders. It was sitting in an old pine tree, still freshly covered with snow, snuggling up in the early rays of sun. As we watched, it felt as though we were people we weren't. That decades of pain, abandonment, loneliness hadn't build a rift between us. I had to be honest it was what I wanted from a father figure. Simply to be there and to spend time with me. We watched the towhee flit between branches, and eventually it took flight. Soaring through the trees and over a distant peak, out of sight and leaving our space. Continuing on our journey towards some nondescript peak. Some fifteen or twenty minutes passed. Then it was forty. Pretty soon we had begun the final ascent, if you could call it that.

"I love the smell of fresh air mixed with pines in the cold. It makes me feel calm, cool and collected. It also calms my mind. It is where I can heal." He was opening up more and more as the day continued. I felt as though I should have been more open. Perhaps soon I will start to feel that way and start letting him know more and more about myself. As I continued down this thought train, we suddenly found ourselves on the peak. It was most certainly no majestic, overlooking ending to a hike. As we sat on a fallen log, we could see a pine bend down below. The sunlight was giving the pines in the light a wonderful warm glow. It was most certainly not an ugly view, but it didn't feel like a painting. We could hear some birds chirping down below, some deer prancing in the distance, and the light slowly making it up the opposite peaks. We both sat there, processing, wondering. Realizing that this could be the start of a rebounded relationship. I would gain a father back and he would reconnect with one of his children. Knowing that we had no promise that this would work, that we would actually gain this person back. Not for lack of wanting, but against fate and fleeting time, who can truly say if we ever gain back that what was lost. For now however, we can simply enjoy the silence here, near our cabin in the woods.