I found myself sitting quietly in the yard, listening to all the noise the wind was making. It was a cool Fall day, the sun hidden under the grey gloomy sky. I guess like most kids, I was bored and looking for something to do. It was to early to go inside, but to late to walk to the park, so I just stayed home, wondering what I should do with the rest of my day.
Because of the weather, more and more days were spent close to home. I could feel the cool air whisp through me my unzipped jacket, sending goose bumps up and down my arms, but I wasn't giving in. I was determined to stay outside, even if it meant being cold.
I could hear my mother in the kitchen. The opened window allowed me the oppurtunity to listen to everything that was going on. It sounded like she was washing dishes and singing a little song to my brother, who was banging on his highchair, while eating macaroni and cheese. I considered joining them, but decided to remain outside, alone.
I eventually heard familiar voices. My two friends, Judy and Ann, were playing three houses down, in Judy's yard. I hid behind the tree, hoping they wouldn't see me. I was having one of those afternoons when you just wanted to be by yourself. I watched the two of them for a few minutes, then heard Judy's mom call her inside. Looking up at the sky, I could tell it was getting close to 7 p.m. It was starting to get dark.
I heard my mother call out my name and yelled back to her that I was coming inside in 5 minutes. I knew I didn't have the slightest clue when 5 minutes would be, but it satisfied my mother long enough for me to remain sitting there, watching the sky get dark and feeling the breeze get cooler. When the last bit of light faded, I went inside, meeting my mother at the door. Feeling my hands, she knew I had stayed out to long, but said nothing as I hurried upstairs, eager to look out my bedroom window.
I watched the cars pass by our busy street, wondering where everyone was going. I couldn't imagine anyone having something to do on such a dreary night, but there they were. Headlights passing by, leaving clouds of light on my bedroom wall. I sat in the dark a long time, then I finally gave in and went to sleep. Wondering as I drifted off. Where was everyone going?
Back then, I thought a lot about other people. Wondering about them, wishing I knew what they were thinking and doing. Curious as to what it all meant? Was I was sad? Was I lonely? Was I scared? I came to understand it meant all those things. I was sad, I was lonely, and I was scared. I had never been one of those kids who wanted the answer before the question was ever asked but now I demanded to walk two steps faster then everyone else, but in reality it appeared I was two steps behind, waiting to see where everyone else was going. Wondering if I could even keep up with them. And on those dreary days, when most kids stayed inside, I felt the most comfortable outside. I never wanted a dreary day to end. The sun was to cheerful and I didn't want to see it. The only thing I like was the radio, listening to one of my favorite songs. Music was certainly my friend, and like all allies, it kept me safe, at least for a while.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Childhood Memories
There I was blowing kisses, eating watermelon, and wearing my New Years Eve hat. I was lucky to have two sisters, and a little brother who I loved carrying around the house. He was a chubby baby, who I nick-named chubby checker. The song by Chubby Checker, oftened played on the record player. My baby brother and I would dance around the room, singing that song, and I would lightly squeeze his fat chubby cheeks.
Often times my baby brother would wear these silly hats, and I would laugh whenever he tried to take them off. On a hot summer day, it was my job to make sure his head stayed covered, even in the shade. So I would place the hat back on his head, make some funny looking face, and try to keep him from taking off his hat, which would usually end up on the ground next to him.
I remember one particualr hat made him look like a little sailor. He would walk around the yard, his chubby belly hanging out of his shirt, searching for what I can only assume was a butterfly. They would often float around the yard, grabbing his attention.
When the house was quiet, it usually meant my little brother was taking a nap. So I quietly sat in the living room, glancing through my Moms collection of music albums. Her favorite song was Strangers In The Night, and it was usually played every Saturday morning. I, of course, was trying to watch American Bandstand, but my mothers music would always drowned out the voice of Dick Clark and I would eventually turn off the tv and join her in the kitchen. We would spend the afternoon folding laundry and feeding my little brother. I could tell my Mom was happy to have a chubby little baby. So happy, she nick-named him boats-and-a-boatally. I wondered if that's why he always wore a hat that made him look like a sailor.
In the back of the house, we had a big garage. My Father let us use it as a play house. When my Mom decided to get new kitchen curtains, we quickly grabbed the red and white checkered ones for our club house. I can still see them lightly floating in the wind on those warm breezy days.
Sometimes a bee would come buzzing in and we would all run outside until someone from the neighborhood came over to help us. Since we ate our watermelon in there, the bees never seemed to leave on there own. Everytime a bee got inside the garage, it had to be chased out.
During the Fall, we had to sweep the leaves that blew in. I wanted to keep them, but my mother said they would just get dirty so we swept them away. I would miss seeing all the colorful leaves float off the trees, however that was quickly forgotten once I saw the first wintery snowfall.
From the window, I could see the white dust of snow float off the rooftop. The heavy snowfall covered the tree branches making them look so alife again.. It was like a picture I had seen in a magaizine, only it was real and I was gazing at it. All I could see was this beautiful cloud of snow. I loved the first snowfall and during the Christmas Season, I would make about a hundred snowflakes.
All afternoon my sisters and I would sit at the kitchen table, making Christmas Ornaments. Snowflakes, Snowmen and Bells would get smothered in glitter and later hung on the tree. At night we would turn on the Christmas lights and watch them blink before we had to go to bed.
Then something happened that took all of this away. Many years of childhood abuse made me forget I once chased butterflies and piled up colorful leaves to jump in. I once sat in the yard listening to the Spring wind and made angels in the deep white snow. All the abuse made me forget I once laughed, I once smiled, I once had wishes and dreams. I once believed in something. All the abuse made me forget that for one brief moment I was happy. For one brief moment I was a child. For one brief moment, I was free.
Often times my baby brother would wear these silly hats, and I would laugh whenever he tried to take them off. On a hot summer day, it was my job to make sure his head stayed covered, even in the shade. So I would place the hat back on his head, make some funny looking face, and try to keep him from taking off his hat, which would usually end up on the ground next to him.
I remember one particualr hat made him look like a little sailor. He would walk around the yard, his chubby belly hanging out of his shirt, searching for what I can only assume was a butterfly. They would often float around the yard, grabbing his attention.
When the house was quiet, it usually meant my little brother was taking a nap. So I quietly sat in the living room, glancing through my Moms collection of music albums. Her favorite song was Strangers In The Night, and it was usually played every Saturday morning. I, of course, was trying to watch American Bandstand, but my mothers music would always drowned out the voice of Dick Clark and I would eventually turn off the tv and join her in the kitchen. We would spend the afternoon folding laundry and feeding my little brother. I could tell my Mom was happy to have a chubby little baby. So happy, she nick-named him boats-and-a-boatally. I wondered if that's why he always wore a hat that made him look like a sailor.
In the back of the house, we had a big garage. My Father let us use it as a play house. When my Mom decided to get new kitchen curtains, we quickly grabbed the red and white checkered ones for our club house. I can still see them lightly floating in the wind on those warm breezy days.
Sometimes a bee would come buzzing in and we would all run outside until someone from the neighborhood came over to help us. Since we ate our watermelon in there, the bees never seemed to leave on there own. Everytime a bee got inside the garage, it had to be chased out.
During the Fall, we had to sweep the leaves that blew in. I wanted to keep them, but my mother said they would just get dirty so we swept them away. I would miss seeing all the colorful leaves float off the trees, however that was quickly forgotten once I saw the first wintery snowfall.
From the window, I could see the white dust of snow float off the rooftop. The heavy snowfall covered the tree branches making them look so alife again.. It was like a picture I had seen in a magaizine, only it was real and I was gazing at it. All I could see was this beautiful cloud of snow. I loved the first snowfall and during the Christmas Season, I would make about a hundred snowflakes.
All afternoon my sisters and I would sit at the kitchen table, making Christmas Ornaments. Snowflakes, Snowmen and Bells would get smothered in glitter and later hung on the tree. At night we would turn on the Christmas lights and watch them blink before we had to go to bed.
Then something happened that took all of this away. Many years of childhood abuse made me forget I once chased butterflies and piled up colorful leaves to jump in. I once sat in the yard listening to the Spring wind and made angels in the deep white snow. All the abuse made me forget I once laughed, I once smiled, I once had wishes and dreams. I once believed in something. All the abuse made me forget that for one brief moment I was happy. For one brief moment I was a child. For one brief moment, I was free.
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