We sat together in the Garda station.
It was cold, dimly lit at these hours.
The night came shortly after we arrived.
We were the only family sitting around.
On one bench was my mother and my sister,
On the other was my father and me.
None of us spoke, only noise was cars
Driving by and the occasional sigh of boredom.
After a while I asked what was happening,
My father told me nothing I should worry about
And I should just try to sleep until it’s over.
After a while, a cigarette or two was lit outside,
And I heard whispers that felt like arguments
And that it’s all for the better what’s to come.
Finally, the papers came out, so did a Garda
To watch both of my parents in silence.
They both signed, only the scratching of
The paper was heard in the background.
He sat down beside me, gave me a hug, and left.
After that, I only saw my father on the weekends.