ecovlke's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 3: Happy New Year, This Is Your New Life Chapter 3: This Is Your New Life Well now that we have that little Yule Tide gem out of the way, let's get on with the show. Forward 1 month and 1 day to January 25, 1964. On a cold snowy January Saturday afternoon, my mother passed from this world into the next with the help of a Coca-Cola truck. I was too young to be aware of what had happened to me at this time. I have the crumbling and yellowed newspaper clipping describing in great detail the damage done to the '56 Chevy that she was riding in. I also have a copy of her death certificate describing in great detail the damage that was done to the person who had carried me for nine months, given birth to me, and who had given me away to strangers in hopes that I would have a better life. My new parents were thrilled to have me, and I had a very good childhood. There was a slight language barrier at first. My native language was the only language that I had ever been spoken to up to this point. My mother told me that when she tried to get me to come and eat dinner, that I would just look at her, smile, and keep playing. She told my father that she couldn't get me to eat. Since he had grown up around my people, he knew a few phrases of the language and one of them was to come and eat. My mother said that once I heard him say this in my native language, I got up and ran to the table. My life was simple during these first few years. I was raised as an only child. I had no one to play with so my imagination began to take hold. During these early years, I had vivid dreams. I began to show signs of being artistic. My father was a sign painter, and so he had numerous cans of paint. Wonderful cans of paint. All kinds of colors. And the garage from where he worked was covered with these fascinating drops and splatters, as was his clothes. I remember the smell of paint and the soft humming of the flourecent lights that illuminated his work area. Today when ever I hear a light hum I think of that wonderful garage. At the time I was not aware of the impact all of this was to have on my life. 10:57 a.m. - 2001-09-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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