Every Six or Seven Years

Every six or seven years my biological father would call and say he was going to be in Pawtucket or Providence or Massachusetts and could we meet at the side of the road. Most of the time I couldn't deal with it. I wouldn't call back. Or I would and then he'd be a no show. Now I realize he was an alcoholic haunted by three wives and three sets of children 2 whom were adopted and 2 were step children from marriage number 3. The irony is that my sister does the same thing now.