When I was about four I have a vivid memory of walking along a sidewalk at dusk. The cement was starting to cool from the hot Georgia sun. I think I may have wandered too far from home and may have felt somewhat lost. I don't know where I had been. I may have just been meandering like kids do. I just remember feeling that as my bare feet kept slapping the side walk taking one foot in front of the other, my soul or what ever you want to call your consiose thought was further down the road than my body. I remember thinking this feels strange and then sort of panicking. I remember thinking this is wrong. I need to get back in my body. I remember thinking that I should not allow that to happen again. A very strong sensation it was. I have a very vivid memory life at four or five. The other years are not as clear. I remember wandering a lot. I don't know if my mom thought it strange or if she had a good eye on me. Maybe she was very sick even then. I really don't know if my where abouts weren't of concern because kids were always outdoors in the sixties. At the very least it was not balanced. My oldest brother told me when he and my grandmother arrived from Germany and he was maybe about eight, that I was very unkempt. There were times I remember walking with out a shirt. I think it felt normal and right in that hot weather. I remember not liking my hair combed and put into tight braids. The knots that turned to little rats nests were not fun to have teased out. One day someone took me to the barber. Yes an actual barber and cut my hair as short as a boys. I don't remember if I liked it or not. It was probably so knotted up that it was impossible to comb. It's funny that the one photo I remember did not have me smiling. It is one of two pictures Taken in someone elses yard. I looked seriouse and withdrawn. My arms crossed across my chest. I wore a white dress that tied in the back. My hair neatly combed and a elastic head band over my hair. I stood next to a swing set with another child on the teeter tooter. It was probably the mother who snapped the photo. Even then I did not feel at ease in my skin. Pulled back, from people. Just prior to that year, I watched as two men drove up to the house and took her away kicking and screaming. They tied her feet down to the floor boards in the car and drove away as I stood on the porch. I don't remember how I felt. I think it was my father who called the state hospital because she must have been out of control and delusional. Next thing I know I'm staying with a women in a cluttered dirty mess of a house up theblock and across the street from where I lived in a brick house with cement steps that were steep.I agley remember scraping myself asi fell down the corner of the sharp step and scraping myself deep
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