The Drive-By

Every few years or so I get the urge to do a drive-by. Of my father's house. He lives a simple minutes from me, right off of Touhy Ave. I haven't really seen him since I was thirteen years old, unless you count the half hour that I saw him in court three years ago. I don't. I'm not going to go through my whole story and the reasons why. Those that count know the story and know why.

Anyway, as I said, every few years I get an urge to drive-by his house, just to see. Am I looking for something? Maybe. I don't know. If am I looking for something, what do I expect to find? I don't know the answer to that one either. I don't even know if I'm looking for something. I just want to drive-by, and see the house. (Yes, a house. He has a house while we live in an apartment. Ironic, huh?) I want to see the cars in the driveway. See if he finally upgraded his ratty old Saturn that he once hit a deer with years ago. See if his girlfriend finally upgraded here two-door blue hatchback that she and I used to go in to visit open houses, just to look. I want to see if she still has those ridiculous geese that she dresses up and displays outside. See whether or not he still has his truck.

I guess I just want to see. To see what is the same, what is different; how something has changed, if at all. It's curiosity. Just because I want nothing to do with him, does not mean I can't be a little bit curious. After all, he is my father, and always will be.