Daddy visited every once in a while, when he could, which wasn't often at all. Reggi kept me busy enough that I often didn't have time to sit back and wonder why he had to stay away from us, though I didn't know it at the time. There was a lot she and momma did that I never took the time to notice. I was a rather self-centered kid, concerned only with what to play with and eat next. That, and avoiding naps. I hated naps. I remember one day I hid in a tree about fifty yards away from the house to get out of taking a nap. I got my first real spanking that day.
But there I go getting off the subject. Memories tend to do that, drift from one into another without any real warning at all. Daddy did visit, and when he did, he got my full attention. And he well deserved it. I remember when he'd open the door, I'd look up from my Lego(TM) blocks, squeal with childish delight, though I would have argued had anyone actually called it that, and jumped up to run into his arms. He'd hoist me above his head, allowing me to slip from his hands perhaps three inches or so, and catch me like the strong superhero I'd come to see him as. I felt like I was flying.
His visits were brief, however, too brief for my own liking. He'd say goodbye to me as he'd tuck me into bed, kissing me on the forehead and telling me he'd be back soon. Then he'd slip away in the night while I'd sleep, after spending time with Momma that I now understand was precious to him. It was routine after a while, it didn't take long before it no longer hurt to wake up to no daddy. Of course, I'd long ago been told of the importance of his job, but that didn't stop the initial pain, especially with momma so focused on the coming baby.
Once Nicky had come, however, life flew into fifth gear. Reggi was there the day of his birth, as the doctor had called her upon momma's request once she'd gone into her 15 hour labor. I was forced to remain in the waiting room, the very last place I wanted to be. It was white, it smelled funny, it separated me from my momma, and the people gave me funny looks. Till Reggi arrived, of course. She'd seen to Momma right away, then came to reassure me that yes, Momma was all right. I remember clinging to her for dear life, hiding my face in the folds of her shirt to evade the embarrasing stares of the other patrons.
Sometime that night, I'd fallen asleep in my aunt's arms, and had been somehow delivered to my own bed to wake up to a high-pitched screech coming from the livingroom. Within moments, I met my little brother, Nicolae, a positively ugly doll with too much hair and a scrunched up face. I had pretty much hated him on sight. During his nap, however, while Reggi watched TV, momma had sat me down in her room (I remember the most important things momma ever said to me were said in that room) and we talked about Nicky, me, her, and Reggi. She told me about how she felt when Reggi was born. She told me how they grew up...A little, anyway. And slowly, very slowly, an understanding of the sibling relationship my brother and I were to share began to dawn on me.
It wasn't as though we became instant buddies...But I stopped staring at him with a jealous look in my eyes. Instead, I seized my coloring books and escaped to the haven of my best friend's house, our next door neighbor girls' home. There I remained for the next few of days, only coming home to sleep. Momma didn't say anything, though Reggi attempted to talk to me about it a few times. I had ignored her.
The day before Earth's Final was the first I spent entirely with my brother, mother, and aunt. Momma said nothing about my near-week-long absense, only fixed Reggi and I a special lunch and allowed us to watch cartoons that day instead of trying to sit me down for another talk. As I think back on that, I regret how selfish I was, not being able to see the family I had for what they were. Luckily, however traumatic the experience was to be, EFD was the day my eyes opened, and I learned to cling to them with all I had.