After being kidnapped my parents decided it was best to move. We moved to apartments in Queen Anne. I was around 3 when I got my big wheel. I loved cruising on that thing so much so that for the next Christmas my parents got me a bike. I am fairly sure it was a huffy but that was back in 84 so I don't recall 100%. I wanted to be outside constantly. I rode my bike with the training wheels on it for about a week. My dad was a pizza delivery driver for domino's on the corner. He would work the night shift which meant he slept a lot during the days. I was following the older kids on my bike and I was doing a good job keeping up but they gave me crap about my training wheels. I asked my dad several times to take the training wheels off but he was either heading out the door or just about to lay down. So I took a hammer to the training wheels and bent them up so I could ride like the big kids. Our apartments had a steep driveway coming in off the street at a pretty steep incline. My older brother and I had both skinned ourselves pretty good trying to tame that hill on our dad's banana board. I lined up at the top of the and pushed off to start down the hill. The first time I started right off the edge of the sidewalk and as I started down the training wheel caught and flipped me off the side. I got up picked my bike back up and tried again. this time with enough clearance to not hit my training wheels. I flew down the hill almost to the end of the apartments driveway and I didn't crash. I took the bike back up to the top again and this time I pedaled on the way down and I was able to keep going. I had a few bumps and falls but if I was outside I was on my bike. I loved the freedom to be able to go where I wanted on my bike and there was one person I wanted to be with, my dad. I started going down to the garage at night and taking my bike out so I could go look for my dad. I would ride the streets around Domino's hoping my dad would see me and pick me up. Sometimes when he did I would get to stay in the car and sleep while he did deliveries sometimes he would take me home. I always got in trouble. I didn't care about getting in trouble. If that was the price of getting to see him so be it. My mom was not too happy with me but she understood I wanted my dad.
It was a couple years later my dad moved to his Sister's house and my parents got a divorce. My Grandparents in Utah would have us out for the summer. They took us to museums we hiked Timpanogos cave every summer. We spent most the time with our grandparents. My grandma cooks like a grandma should and my grandpa is the kindest hardest working bad ass I have ever known. My dad lived with them for a few years and we would get to see him from time to time but he never really connected with me. My older brother Edmond played guitar like dad did, he liked sci-fi like dad did, he liked computers like dad did. I wanted to play outside. I never understood how he got to be the way he was. as an adult I can go to Utah and see family and he will try to make himself unavailable. I wish I understood why he wants nothing to do with me. His parents are awesome. His upbringing was wholesome he went to church. Not that that makes you a good person but I am guessing they didn't teach him to act like he has. The one thing He really instilled in me is how shitty it is to grow up with a dad who doesn't care about you. My family and I often talk about how people want better for their kids than what their parents did for them. My joke is my dad cared so much he made that easy for me. Being a dad is the one thing I new I wanted to be when I grew up. I am proud of my little girl and I tell her often.
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