We all have an inner child. For a long time, I lost track of mine. But you know, hhhhhh…. That child’s experiences and the emotions, and antidotes, are to a large degree the reason we are who we are today. Its crazy, I had a hard childhood and I’ve blocked so much from my memory that there are gaps… like for instance, I hardly remember any of my schoolteacher’s names. But in a lot of ways, my childhood was great. We were one of 2 black families in the whole area (and there was racism) but we made friendships that remain to this day.
I think our tiny house was haunted… but “County” living (in what used to be a middleclass neighborhood) let us leave our doors unlocked at night and hang out until the wee hours of the morning on the side lawn, back yard or under the big tree in the front yard (which is now gone). I mostly hated sharing a room with my baby bruh, who would tear up the room in 5 minutes after I spent all day cleaning it. “Mommmmmmmmmm!!!!” I’d scream … and she’d just say 1 of 2 things, “Oh boys will be boys” OR “Don’t you hit my baby.” He was a bad little m-effer and no day went by that we didn’t want to just kill ‘em. Today, he’s the first to admit it too, lol. But! Sharing a room came in handy to get through the “Saturday Night Fights” (Pop arriving home to a very drunk & angry Mom after partying all night.) We clung to and consoled each other until the bumps and yelling stopped.
When my 2 older sisters who had lived with my father’s sister, Doris finally came home, I had forgotten they existed. After all they were gone for “temporary” 1-1/2 years. In that time, we lived with my grandmother, and Mom fell in love, got married and had another baby. At 3-4 that was practically half of my young life. I was so excited and all I ever wanted to be “one of them.” But I pushed and pushed so much so that I got into things that no elementary school kid should’ve gotten into. Things that made me grow up too fast. Momma was very strict, and she expected so much… too much from us. After that last fight, the breaking of my mother’s nose and the divorce, the dust began to settle and life got back to normal, until… my big sis Renee refused to attend and graduate from school. I woke up to bumping, Renee was standing up in the tub under the head with Mom’s hands wrapped around her neck. Next thing you know she was on a plane to California to stay with our uncle. Tired of Mom’s anger and abuse, it wasn’t long until Merel (13) and I (10) ran away (with the help of my aunt Doris) to be with our father also in California. Dad, however, returned us after 6 months and Renee came home too. And then… life became stable.
But I remember sitting on my “Corner Unit” bed wondering what a “normal life” was like, when a big, wonderful breeze would fill the room with a marvelous, sweet aroma. In that moment, I knew that someone somewhere loved me and that everything would be alright. Well one day, I just had to know the source of this natural phenomena. I stood up on my bed and pressed my face to the screen, and I strained to see… and in the bottom of my periphery I saw but just barely, some itty-bitty pink pedals. I put the real estate classifieds aside which I checked every day, I jumped down and I ran straight out the front door. I made my way down the side of the house and there it was! A honeysuckle bush. I ran to it and buried my face in it. Ohhh! I couldn’t take in enough of its sweetness. The joy I felt upon realizing the roots were on our property! It was nestled in the corner of the backyard fence that was connected to the edge of the house. I ran through the front door, down the quarter stairs and out the back door and ahhhhhaaaaaa… there it was. Immediately, I spotted an opening like a little doorway at the bottom and inside I crawled. There was enough room for me to sit up and I stayed there for hours, pulling stems, sucking honey, and reminiscing about my past life. The one where I lived somewhere else… with my daddy. I had found a secret place all my own where I could be safe and I spent many, many, hours there.
You know what? I can trace all of my adult issues through the lines of this story. I bet if you wrote down, your story (we all have one) that you could do the same. You may see things (even yourself) in a way you haven’t before. This is a healing process, one that will bring you strength and joy, so finish it by talking to someone (a professional) who can help you sort it all out. Now… you’re on the way to a HappyLife.
By the way, you’ve just had a sneak peek into my soon coming children’s book series (stay tuned.)
