The Good Days
Four years ago, the soundtrack for falling asleep was the finely tuned music box my father had bought me in Germany. Now, that soundtrack is my parents arguing nonstop about how much they despise each other and everything the other did wrong. Four years ago, 7 o’clock sharp every night meant family dinner; my mom made delectable food and my dad always wore a huge grin as she served it for us. Now, no one ever has a smile on their face and we never eat as a family. Four years ago, both my mother and my father were there supporting me at every one of my baseball games. Now, I can scarcely get one of them to drive me to practice. Four years ago, we went to church every Sunday; not only did we go, but we all went together and loved it as much as we loved each other. Now, I don’t even know if we’ll go for Easter. If we do, it’ll be in separate pews, or even separate services.
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