My first memory I can recall

was that of me in a high chair in a kitchen

asking where is mommy

my father was cooking

my sisters working on the table

some one said she was in the hospital

and she would be home soon



I remember the house on 13th street

the puppy and the kitten

the fire in the night

the fear

the noise

I remember all the fighting and yelling

in our household

but not the words

for they never seemed to matter

I recall the big black car

with the seats that seemed so very big

I recall trips to relatives

the bickering

the accidents on the road

I think I watched too much TV

and I ate too much

that's how I got so fat

I remember my stuffed toys

and the talks I had with them

I remember the fear in the night

when dad would come home

in the middle of the night

raise hell

hit someone or break something

I recall the police

and the exit

the stillness after they took him away

My stomach dancing in my body

My limbs quaking to a 10 on the Richter scale

The cuddles with my older sister in her bed

the hum of the vacuum cleaner

the voices in my head