For a long time, my memories of my childhood were vague and felt very, very distant. In part because I actively shied away from fully remembering. I’ve spoken of being raped when I was nine years old. However, as I approach 50, I find myself remembering happy times and a loving family. Memories of great adventures with cousins, large family gatherings and celebrations, church family, friends at school and in the neighborhood; all crowding forth in my mind lie whispers. It has moved me to look at the one family photo album that I managed to salvage after my mom’s death. So many great snapshots that made me smile and laugh. I want it back. I want it all back: the fun, the struggle, the pain, the love. All of it shaped who I am today.
I have reached out and reconnected with some family and friends on social media and will continue in my efforts. I’m enjoying seeing these amazing people and learning about who they are now. I really hope to return to NC sometime in 2018 to see them in person.
I feel like I was missing a part of me and now I am working to reclaim it. To make myself whole. Yes, it includes some really painful and sad parts but it also includes some really amazing, happy and loving parts as well.
To my friends and family, please share stories with me. I may not remember them all clearly but the more I hear, the more I remember and the more I feel myself.