Pinky Promises create a sacred thread
Connecting truth to love.
My pinky tied a knot at age 4.
It was my first day of preschool.
I attached myself to my dad’s leg.
Holding on to him like my life depended on it.
I begged and pleaded for him not to leave.
He looked at me with
A golden-brown warmth.
The ones I trusted most.
I promise I’ll be back.
I hold out my pinky.
& he holds out his.
Interlocked.
He came back.
He kept promises like oaths.
I promise you will never see me in the hospital.
I promise you will always be picked up.
I promise I won’t drink again.
I’m 8 years old and I can go to school
Because I know my dads coming back.
But I get home & my baby sitter is there.
She tells me dad was hospitalized for fainting at the gym.
I beg her to take me to see him.
& she tells me he won’t allow it.
He won’t break my promise.
I’m 14 now & dad still hasn’t broken a promise
But the knot is getting looser
& he’s drinking more than one beer
To keep the edge of.
Sometimes he forgets to pick me up from school.
So I call my neighbor to get me.
& I start throwing dads beer in the trash.
Cover the bottles with paper towels.
But it doesn’t make a difference because
Vacation comes around
Canada is beautiful but overshadowed by,
The sound of the door slamming at 3:00 AM
A shadowy figure of my dad stumbling in.
The sound of a shriek and a crash.
& he’s lying on the ground barely conscious.
As my mom cradles him in her arms.
I promise you I’m okay Zo.
I’m in the hospital now and the lights are
Fluorescent and too bright on my eyes.
He’s in the hospital bed
& he looks weak
But he was always strong.
Mom gives up on him & leaves
him broken for us to
Piece back together.
One day the sirens come
They flash without remorse
For the little girl sitting on the porch.
Who watches her dad in handcuffs.
I promise you will never see me in the hospital.
I promise you will always be picked up.
I promise I will stop drinking.
Sometimes the thread frays
Unwravels
& breaks.