7 years after the divorce dad bought a collection of karmann ghias from an old man. We towed them with our ford escort station wagon. We pushed 37 of them into the backyard. Dad measured their worthiness by rust. We spent weekends relocating piles of ghia parts. My brother left to live with mom. I moved a 2 ton pile of bumpers in one afternoon. 150 rims with flat tires in another. My father kept his favorite motor in his bedroom. I've been covered in fleas and dried cat piss more than five times.

12 years after the divorce mom watched reruns of Friends. Every episode her experience. Their names dropped into daily conversation. On 9/11 she woke me screaming. For weeks she lay on an air mattress in the living room. My uncle brought over an old bigscreen tv and she had us move it to the florida room. Her air mattress took up the remaining space. The room was not sealed from the outside. She named it her bedroom. A bedroom with broken window panes and heavily stained indoor/outdoor carpet. One wall unfocused images hallowed in green/blue/red. From the kitchen her round body visible through the sliding glass door.

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