Now, when long-buried feeling and memories emerge, I encourage them and to the best of my ability allow myself to remember without judgment toward myself or the fragmented details of others.
Most of my remembrances arise quietly, tiptoeing into my dreams and affecting my attitude. I ask that nothing be kept from my conscious knowledge, as I shake my fist at the heavens and calling upon the universal spirit to unlock all that lay in the shadow and denied in my being. One night upon declaring my intention, a blazing star shot across the darkened expanse caressing the cosmic lamp and I knew the genie had jumped out.
I thought of the house I grew up in, having two parents and four children in a 900 square ft., five room house. A five room house with two bedrooms? I am not a math whiz, but that doesn’t add up. Here is where my memory gets sketchy, but I am pretty sure I never saw four beds in the kids’ room. As I lay in the present, in our king size bed looking at the stars through the skylight, I wonder what that boy wanted. I do not recall a bureau or desk; he would have liked a room of his own.
My father, hounded by my mother, cut into an attic space, insulated and to that extent, the remodeling was complete. I still didn’t have a room to myself, but I did get to choose where my bed was, I decided to sleep at the far end, behind a chimney next to a window. The unfinished room didn’t consciously bother me, what bothered me was entering my room through my sister’s room, other kids had regular looking rooms accessed from a hallway, did I wonder, why not me?
As I gaze at the heavens allowing myself to sense those feelings, chunks of memory break free, like an iceberg slowly floating through my conscious mind.