The rain trickled down the glass as I stared aimlessly out of the window, trees speeding past blowing in the wind as we passed through the country on our way to the Welsh border. It had been a while since I’d seen my Dad because he had had to reschedule his last visit. A motorbike overtook us as we sped down the motorway, hours passing. Wondering if it was my Daddy I pressed my nose up hard against the window trying to peer through the rain drops that blurred my vision. Moving my booster seat as I shuffled about to press my nose up harder, I felt my mother’s hand reach back and touch my leg from the front seat. At that age I didn’t pick up on the sadness that filled the car and that single touch, all I knew was that we were going for a long drive to see Daddy.
Pulling up to the church I see a group of familiar faces piled outside awaiting our arrival. Jumping out the car I run into my Nanny’s arms as she lifted me up. Both family members and men and women in some sort of uniform which I now know to be Air Force, filled the church as we entered taking our seats at the back. I searched around for that one face I longed to see only giving up when my Mum lifted me up onto her lap. The guests filled the silent church with song as six dressed up air force men carried in a big box on their shoulder. Cuddling into my mother’s chest I began to notice am impeccable itch that had been teasing me the whole journey here. My mother had dyed one of my dresses black for the occasion, but this was no ordinary dress, it was one that was completely lined with netting, the itchiest fabric to ever be invented. I don’t think that if I tried my very hardest I could think of a worst lining for a dress. And for a five year old, you’d think a mother would have known better. The whole day all I did was complain about the itchiness of the dress. “Mum it itches”, “Mum can I take it off now?” “Mum it’s itchy”, tears flowing down my cheeks from my uncomfortable state. From the time my mum put the dress on me until the time she took it off I was reminding her of that itch, all the while she sat there trying her best to smile and comfort as I continuously moaned.
The day was long but not yet had I seen the face I most desired to see. Growing impatient I suddenly caught sight of his smiling face over the sea of people. Right at the front stood was a big photo leaning up against tat big box those men had carried in. There he was, my daddy. Trying to wiggle out of my mums lap to get a closer look I realised he was right in front of me this whole time. Smiling at me, that big glowing smile I always longed to see after he dropped us home. We didn’t get to see him much since he moved far away, but when we did it was always like a holiday, this is why we would sit by the window until he arrived to pick us up from the moment we woke up. This time however that glowing smile triggered an unusual feeling inside of me, suddenly the itch did not matter anymore and my stomach turned to knots. There he was, staring right at me, just smiling. Picking up the piece of paper in front of me I looked into my daddy’s eyes, eyes I would never forget.
The drive home was peaceful, the car was silent and the rain had stopped. A full rainbow had replaced the rain. Red, yellow, blue all shone brightly in the sky as my mother took off my itchy dress and covered me with a blanket. Closing my eyes I imagined those eyes, blinking away tears they smiled as they were swallowed away by the rainbow.
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