• My Kids Don't Know Their Grandfather, And I Won't Let Them

    10 days ago - By Scary Mommy

    My father left when I was eight. The details about his leaving are murky, but in my memory, he was just gone. One day, I came home from school and his clothes were gone, without warning, without discussion, and without any promises to return. In one afternoon, he stole our family dog and replaced it with a trauma wound based in the fear of abandonment.
    I can't remember exactly how many times he visited after he left-but less than a handful feels true. The last time I saw him-or at least the last time that stands out in my memory-he drove his car in a rage across the front lawn, through the...
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