Learning To Love You More




Assignment #14
Write your life story in less than a day.

Bellingham, Washington USA



Born to parents who married more for rebellion than love. One black. One white. In Chicago. My dad spent money on jazz records instead of food and blew up cherry bombs under the table for fun while my mom worked graveyard shifts. Both in college. All three of us were very young. I sputtered around with asthma, eczema, allergies and nightmares. Not enough breast milk? Maybe. Unsettling early days? Definitely. Law school for my father sent us all out West where my parents soon divorced. The sound of the wind in the pines was a balm my mothers spirit she immediately absorbed. My father moved away to another reality. I joined him there for one year when I was five. He had married an ex prostitute and was dealing drugs. A scary sense of freedom when they were high and my only experience of whippings. Extension cords and sticks. Screaming, thrown objects, great music, disco balls, strobe lights and porn. I vividly remember many of the television programs I watched then and am still struggling with my contorted visions of sexuality and revulsion to tv. I made it back to my mom and her new husband. He became and continues to be a loving father for me. They had my brother when I was eight and divorced when I was 14. The years from six to fifteen were filled with multiple schools, homes and the exhilarating feeling of being able to play in a safe environment. I was enthralled with magical thinking and haunted by my dreams. Somewhere in there my epilepsy became obvious and I was put on medications. Fewer nightmares and wet beds. Fewer visits from spirits and opportunities to fly. My mother remarried and I tried to be a part of this new family but my restless spirit was breaking out and after several confrontations, I moved into my own apt just before turning sixteen. Oh the sweet joy of my own world. Many nights spent in my bathtub on cinder blocks in the living room listening to my records, staring at candles. Deep heartbreak from confusing sex with love. Enchanting conversations on and off hallucinogens. I enjoyed what I could but was never comfortable in my own skin. A year in Africa to escape my small town immediately after graduation threw me into extremes of beauty, sorrow, fear and passion. A romance with an Englishman while a war was beginning and a brief glimpse at my future of nursing. College. Veganism and then back to meat. Dancer, social worker, counselor, restaurant chick. Always finding my way into a job with people skirting death, life, pain or reality. A few serious relationships and several fantastic flings. Graduate school. Met a man I did not plan to marry and then did. Spent several hard, magical years on Cape Cod then back to school for one more degree. Abortion nurse, Hospice nurse, Sexual assault nurse examiner and next death investigator? Playing with roles of mortgage payer and health insurance carrier. In the same home now for two years--a first. Still with this sweet man. My wandering spirit is leading me back to dreams of flying and communicating with other realms. I know that we will move again and this is a good thing. I dream of the simpleness of a yurt and that soothing sound of the wind through the pines.