Laughs and Lobotomies

I remember 3 things about the TV room on Glen Arbor drive my Kindergarden year after we had moved back from Iowa.

Actually I remember more, but these three were specific to that room, that year, that house.

I remember sitting on the futon putting every hair clip I owned in my father’s hair as he sat below me on the ground and we watched TV.

I remember I had the same favorite pizza flavor then as I do now. Bacon, pineapple, green pepper. I remember having it once in that room and I used to pull off the bacon pieces first and eat them, and then eat the rest of the pizza.

And I remember lying on that floor, grabbing my stomach, in excruciating pain, writhing and screaming. My family watching.

What I don’t remember are hugs. Any one asking if I was ok.

I was 5 years old.

I had stomach issues, excrutiating stomach issues, for a few years. No one ever really found out what they were.

But I wasn’t held. Or comforted.

I don’t remember any injuries where I was actually.

They were the, “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” type.

Well I guess there’s time for tears in hell.