Alicia Abbott

He wasn't the cleanest.

He wasn't the best housekeeper.

There wasn't always a well-stocked fridge.

Things didn't always work.

Our car was eventually towed when he stopped paying parking tickets on it.

And here I would come to my grandparents every summer, and they would pick me up in this beautiful Lincoln Town car with windows that would go up and down with the push of a button.

And the house was very clean and smelled clean, and there was TV in every room and delicious food, and I could go to the swimming pool whenever I wanted.

But at the same time, when I was at my grandparents', I sometimes dearly missed my father.

I felt...

there was something unique in our family and that it was just the two of us.

And so I felt that I had sort of the unadulterated, you know, love that I, we were, I was his sole focus and he was my sole focus.

And I, and I loved that.

And at my grandparents, I had an aunt and uncle who had come with their kids and we had to kind of negotiate our plans or, you know, I wasn't the single target of attention and affection.

And furthermore,

When I did go to my grandparents, my father was not present.

And it wasn't just a matter of him not attending those visits with me.

And, you know, frankly, to go from San Francisco to rural Illinois, you know, maybe he would have preferred to stay in San Francisco.

But he also he wasn't pictured anywhere and he wasn't asked after anything.

And my mother as well, because she died in a tragic car accident when she was only 27, she wasn't pictured and we didn't talk about her.

It seemed there was something in the story of my parents that was a little unpalatable.