I was there in the evening.
At first he asked me almost every day:
Are you leaving tomorrow?nta chfar
– No.
What about the day?
– No.
One evening, after a few weeks of therapy, we were sitting on the couch watching a cartoon.
Valentina stuck to me.
– Dad?
– Yes?
If I do something wrong, do you still?
I turned off the TV.
If you spill the juice?
He nodded.
– I’m Staying.
What if I break something?
– I’m Staying.
What if I take a low grade?
– I’m still staying.
He was silent.
What if you get really upset?
I felt my chest tighten.
I can get mad. I can tell you you were wrong. There may be consequences. But I’m not allowed to hurt you. And I don’t stop being your father because you made a mistake.
For the first time in a long time, he smiled without checking my expression before.
It’s been months.
The bruises disappeared first.
Fear needed more time.
One afternoon I accidentally spilled a whole cup of coffee on the carpet in the living room.
Valentina has frozen.
We both looked at the big stain.
Then I looked at her.
“Well… I seem to have destroyed the family.
His eyes are enlarged.
Then he understood the joke.
He started laughing.
I laughed too.
We brought towels and cleaned together.
While rubbing the stain, Valentina said:
It’s just a carpet.
I stopped.
– Exactly.
She keeps cleaning.
And I looked at her and understood something I should have always known.
A house is not a place where the carpet remains impeccable.
It is the place where a child can shed a glass of juice and know that after the stain disappears, it will still be safe.
