The Early Years
Copyright© 2012 by JPM
Chapter 8
North Tonawanda, New York
Do you remember? I love that song as sung by Phil Collins.
There's a video on youtube that I found the other day. A little boy, probably about 10, riding his bicycle as he delivers his paper route. He meets, and starts to spend time with, a little girl in his class. It is all innocent and fun and free. And it was another of my triggers for remembering my darkest incident of my life.
I can feel the tears start to form. Here I am. A man of 53 years. Brought to tears by a simple song.
There were many tears in our lives that year.
Sure, I can write about the neighborhood. The boys and girls running around and playing until dark was coming. Carefree and no worries about strangers lurking in the shadows. They were there. They just hadn't visited our lives yet.
No, I will write about the night my mom was done. She packed all of us kids up. Put us into the car. We were leaving. The sins of the father had pushed her to her breaking point. She was leaving him there in that big, 4 bedroom house, and taking us to go live with her parents.
My sister has the clearest memories of this. I do not remember it at all. I know later, once school was done, we would move down to Allentown, Pennsylvania, to live with mom's sister and her husband and family. My aunt and uncle and their 4 kids. That period of time I have clear, distinct memories.
To read this story you need a
Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In
or Register (Why register?)