Since arriving here, in my hometown, I have felt a calling to go check out my home where I grew up for most of my childhood. I was not sure what this pull was, but it would not stop and I had to go. I was able to go yesterday morning. I wanted to take the kids with me – Ariel and Joshua went. Daniel is refusing to get in the car; there was a morning of meltdown at the mention of me taking him. Finally, David said that he would keep him so I could go. It has since been discovered, after the calm down, and pieces put together Daniel is afraid of getting carsick.
He said that he felt sick when we went to my aunts, which is only 10 minutes away.
However, he did not say any of this clearly, it started with him saying, “I wish the car didn’t move up and down.” I admit in the morning I was not all that sympathetic because he refused to answer me, speak, and was screaming to interrupt me every time I tried to figure out what was going on. I have my days; I fail to interpret, after all had settled I asked Daniel if he understood why I was frustrated. He said that he did not, I explained that I was frustrated because I did not understand and that if I knew he was getting car sick and afraid of throwing up again it would have made sense to me. I also expressed very clearly that I was not upset at him, but the situation and not being able to figure out what was wrong.
I also told him that I understood that he did not know how to tell me and that made him sigh.
It seemed like a sigh of relief; he was all smiles after that so I am hoping I am correct. I am going to look into motion sickness medicine for him, I am not sure if he can take it, and try to transition back into car riding. Slow and steady like. I used to always get car sick, but I would fall asleep that is how I dealt with it. I fell asleep in the car all the time – it drove my mom batty. She did not understand why I did that, especially when it was a five or ten minute drive. I think it mostly bothered her because I did not sleep any other time. At home I was up from the crack of dawn to wee wee dark and eerie hours.
Back to the story…
So off we went to the journey of my childhood. It was a strange feeling seeing so many familiar things mixed with new unknown things. In a way, I had expected everything to be just as I left it when I was a 13-year-old girl. When I left, I never wanted to see it again. This place held the largest chunk of my bullying. It was dark, and evil. However, it was beautiful, and full my pleasant memories of my mom and me. (Others may not think they were all that pleasant, but I do.) It was a giant monster with tentacle arms that swung around grabbing and clawing at me spewing the words of mean little children, and boys hurting me, or destroying my belongings.
It was the most gorgeous place on the planet.
Surrounded by lush greenery, encamping a small world that outsiders did not know. It has dirt, rocks, speed bumps, gravel, cracks, hills, critters, and books and books of tales that were formed in my imagination with my stuffed animals, while Barbie and her friends happily watched. After, I had dressed them in their proper attire, and placed them in lines against my wall. I could never pull out stories for Barbie and Ken, but I could for my favorite yellow stuffed turtle, while sniffing a Strawberry Shortcake figure.
When I got to the entrance, it was different.
What seemed like miles and miles away was a rather short distance from the mailboxes. My bus stop had LOST its rocks! There used to be huge rocks at the entrance, possibly not so huge, but they were to me and I loved them so much. I would soak into them at the bus stop trying to ignore the other kids. I stared at their lines and details, I rubbed them and caressed when no one was looking, AND they are gone! Except for a small one in comparison that was sitting there all alone.
A part of me felt gone.
I felt so odd.
I decided to keep going to the place that held all of the mailboxes. This was the place we had to stay sheltered from the rain, the snow; I would try to cower in here some days so the mean boys would not see me. I had flashes of so many memories. My possessions being destroyed, being hit with rocks or words, mocked, told how ugly, or stupid I was. People saying mean things about my mom because she was a single parent. Things about my dad because he was not around. My birthmark the butt of all kinds of jokes, the group of kids laughs covering me, consuming me, and me shutting down into a stare. The transition from this into laughing and mocking myself before they could…
It all unraveled before my eyes here.
I took my picture and drove on.
As I drove to the very back of the trailer park, I felt the words of my past evaporating. I watched them turning to smoke and leaving. I was not sure what that meant, but that was what my mind was doing. I still felt the ache from the bullies, but their gargantuan words that used to take over my brain were disappearing. Driving through I remembered so many details. I remembered where I walked, rode my bike, studied critters, collected rocks, played with gravel from the street falling apart, the cracks I followed leading me to butterflies.
I remembered my childhood world.
As I turned the corner to get to my lot, my heart fell.
The huge dirt hills, the lush grand trees, the never-ending turning cul-da-sac was abruptly stopped. There was a wall of a fence and homes were destroying the once amazing view and home to all kinds of critters. Then, I lost my words. My home was gone! My lot was empty! My HUGE yard was not huge at all. My swamp that was center for Frogville had dried up and weeds replaced it. My driveway had shrunk and was being eaten by cracks and weeds. My shed that was a grand castle complete with moat and drawbridge – GONE!
I had been erased!
“OMG! I really do not exist!”
Were the words that pierced my brain for a moment, until I heard my kids laughing. I got out of the car and took pictures. All of my memories felt as if they were swallowed up into a black hole. The chunk of my life, the childhood that I had so tightly held onto was captured in some tornado of the past. I did not know how I felt. I wanted to cry. My body was numb. I did not realize how attached I was to that trailer, and our lot. I hated it and loved it at the same time.
Now all I have are the memories of my childhood, with no concrete object.
And I heard the giggles in the back seat.
I got in the car and Ariel asked, “What’s wrong mom?” I said, “Well my home is gone. My hills are gone, everything is gone.” Her and Joshua both were not too concerned and informed me that we have a home. I am so glad I took them with me. I was not sure what I was feeling I am still a bit thrown by the whole thing, but they surrounded me with joy. Their uncontrollable giggling and singing on the way home drown out any residue from negative associations.
I drove away hearing the bullies and the hurt disappear.
I felt my sad heart filling with tears at the thought of my childhood home being gone, but I was also filled with delight that my childhood home was no longer frightening. The pain that once stood in that place was not there. All of the fears, aches, hurt of a little Angel who had to become an adult very quickly went into their proper place. What was left was the happy memories and all of the great things that did happen… the moments with my mom, my imagination running wild, dances and concerts I put on, my yard that was a gymnastics mat, my porch with a rinky-dink 3 foot pool that I refused to get out of, the fire flies that sang with me at night – those are some of the memories that live on.
The bullies are long gone, and their words do not live here anymore.
I have a new home and it is not in a painful past. It is in a promising future. I am still feeling heartache about this. I am not sure why. It could be the unexpectedness of it. I had expected to see my home, and my woods that I loved so much. I was not prepared for them to be gone. It felt like they were ripped off the face of the planet, and I sat there feeling the open wounds. I know I am dramatic, but that is what it felt like. I think this was very good for me. I am happy that I went and I realized that the big scary monsters were no longer there. They had vanished without a trace, and so did their words that had attached themselves to me. They are gone, and so is the past that hurt me so much. Don’t get me wrong I still feel the pains, I still live with the damage that happened, but it does not control my thoughts or me.
It is slowly, (starting rapidly) to leave my mind and new thoughts are taking over.