Mother: A featured event:
When I was five, my mother drank Lysol. She said it was because I was a bad
girl. If she hadn’t said that, I would have been a different girl.
Other images from childhood:
I had a red wagon.
The wagon hurt my knee and it was hard to steer. I was always
carrying something heavy.
I had a red car which moved when I peddled it. I held the wheel with
both hands the way my Aunt Henrietta held her steering wheel.
She kept her pocket book on the other seat. She was purposeful. I was secure.
Other things that mattered:
My green taffeta dress: Also the summer one, made from oil cloth with printed flowers.
Father: An algorithm of a higher sort.
I love you, why can’t you come back?
Even now I ask this, though it has been fifty some years.
More images from childhood:
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