Childhood

Fresh cut grass. Popsicles melting on hands. The taste of slightly warm water from the garden hose. Hot pavement under feet before a quick jump into a pool instantly cools them.

New jeans and t-shirts and sweaters as the days get shorter and cooler. Brand new trapper keepers full of college lined crisp paper. Freshly sharpened number 2 pencils. Sneakers that have to be broken in.

Beans and hammocks simmering on the wood stove. Mittens, hats, and scarfs dying beside them. Snow melting on the floor. Hands warmed by homemade coco and the heat from the stove. Snow Angels and snowmen freezing solid outside.

The first day it is warm enough to wear shorts. Arms slowly browning from the sun. Barefeet in the creek, squealing at the sharp cold. Soft moss under butts and hands. Sharp pine bark scratching bare knees as trees are climbed.

Walking up slowly with the sun as it warms the room. Kool-aid in thick plastic tumblers. Thick bologna sandwiches on white bread.

Driving through the mountains, watching the cliffs raising up on either side as the climb gets steeper and steeper.

Sitting on the canopy bed, looking at old family pictures. Daytime TV blasting as the sliding glass doors open and close. Clothes flapping on the line as the garden is raided for salad fixings.

The sound of the umbrella opening on the table as the sound of hamburgers and hot dogs sizzle on the grill.

Cold water washing off the chlorine after a day at the pool. Soft clothes on sun warmed skin. Bike riding around the block.

Running down the lane towards our neighbors. Climbing the mountain, finding places to hide.

Raised voices. Hard slaps. Heart racing. Mouth dry. Prayers that he stays away.

Letters written to express the longing to both, be home, and the relief that you aren't.

Old clothes. Teasing voices. Laughter and tears.

Bruises covered. Trying to be like everyone else. Failing miserably.

Deep in books, living all life's outside your own. Losing yourself in them.

Safe at great-grandma’s but unable, unwilling to tell her what is happening at home. Frozen cokes in glass bottles. Sweet pickles, the best ever made. Policing the yard after a day spent under the weeping willow tree, where all your secrets came be kept.

Home after a long summer. Not wanting to be home, though you desperately missed mom. Hoping and praying that he will be gone, on the road.

Longing for a real relationship with him, your father. Settling for a good moment here and there. Surviving on stories found in books and made up in your own head.

Hiding in your room, under the covers, praying those heavy footsteps don't stop outside your door. Closing your eyes and waiting for it to be over.

Long bus rides into school. Loving that time, no matter what is being taught, for he isn't there. Time at your neighbor's, time at the tiny general store, like a scene out of Little House, up the mountain.

A winter where the snow doesn't stop falling, leading to a months vacation from school and a month sitting in class over the following summer.

Finding out how babies are made in mom’s medical text books. Being overwhelmed at the thought, praying it doesn't happen with you and him.

One day, early spring, finding out your womanhood has flowered. Actually being excited about it.

He leaves and not just for work. Moving away. She tells you with the relief you all feel. Finally able to tell her what you have been hiding. The relief of that!

Moving back north. Packing up your life. Your aunt coming down to help. The shop vac ( or R2D2) as your aunt calls it, in the back of the truck.

All at Grandma's. Job hunts for mom, anxious not to live with her mom. Our own place, a safe calm place, finally.

Peace. Quiet. Getting to know Mom for the first time as the stress drains away.

Evenings spent working puzzles. Talking like never before. Freely without fear.

News school, new peers, new chances. New friends.

Leg warmers, crop tops that fell off shoulders, skirts over tights. High top pink sneakers. High ponytails.

Algebra, Anatomy, Art. School dances, first real kisses, first job.

Few mall trips. A savings account for college.

A new stepdad. Trouble. He was. Not in the same way as dad. No, to himself, therefore mom, therefore you.

Saved back money, worked hard for, for three years, spent to bail him out. More shattered dreams.

But hope. A scholarship. A chance. A decision. To stay there, with Grandma or go with her. Go with Mom and him.

The last choice of childhood. The last chance to redeem, to make right all the bad decisions, hers and yours. Starting adulthood by attending college, living with Grandma or

It will change everything. Your future, your future children's. She has been your rock through everything. You, hers. As she has chosen him, who do you choose, her or yourself? Her future or your own?

One last summer. Push and pull from both sides. Your grandma speaks logic. Your heart cries out in emotion. Your mom, she wants you to make the best decision for you. She can't stay, her childlike husband can't be around the friends who got him in trouble. You managed your teen years without any problems but your adult… well

Her, no them or yourself. A wide open future or

She was there, keeping you as safe as she could. How can you leave her with this child man, alone? But, a chance to create a real future, to make a difference, a career, meet a man you can build a future for your own children on?

It is the classic tug of war. Do all newly adult children, survivors of horrid abuse go through? The present, the same, the known or an unknown, different, better future?

It is a time you can never go back to, a good thing, if a scary thing. No matter the choice, it will be different. Childhood ends, cl

inging to your mom’s apron strings won't stop that.

It is time for a decision.