It was more than that, I learned many years later, when Dad was eventually laid off from his job at the Post Office, and we were living on welfare checks for a few months until he landed a weekly, stable position at an accounting firm in town. Mom’s work as a bank teller didn’t help pay all the bills.
Dad drank heavily for many weeks thereafter, but he was never aggressive or violently abusive toward Mom or me. We were bigger than life to him, he told us. But for me, it was a different side of my father; a part of me was intimidated by the man I admired and wanted to emulate when I grew up. However, to his credit, that night was the only time I had seen his behavior change.
Now, when he reached his hands out to smack the air, I flinched, and something in his gaze shifted, like a glint of light glazing over a pane of glass. His repetitive movement of uncontrollable tics frightened me, even now. I froze.