in the suburbs I learned to drive and you told me we'd never survive

[skeletaltime]

It is June 28. I got a package today with my younger brother's name and address as the return. It contained the last tidbits of my mother's Christmas gifts for me that David couldn't stuff in his duffel bag when he came to visit in March

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[udokeir]

Literally the only holiday we ever had when I was a kid was visiting my dad's side of the family in County Durham. Sometimes Christmas, sometimes summer. I remember the family arguments and tension. My mum was the outsider that had trapped him in marriage via pregnancy and taken him away from his girlfriend and family.
The hat that he sewed a piece of cloth to the back of, to protect my skin from the sun. Hay fever for the first time. Us kids covering his eyes as he drove across the Moors to our mum's distress. Trying to build a dam to block a stream.
The terror I felt, hoisted onto his shoulders, as we crossed a bridge over the river Tees. That'll teach me not to complain that I couldn't see, as the adults marvelled at how pretty it was. The kite rope that he threw to the ground after I complained that I wanted a turn. (It was my kite). The excitement of my first kiss with my cousin(s).
The only other holiday we ever had was a day trip to Weston-super-Mare. Some 17 miles away from our home.