Losing Touch

How Childhood Keeps a Hold on You

Designed in Microsoft Designer by the Author

Did you ever cry yourself to sleep? People talk about it in books and movies, but have you ever done it? I can remember my mother coming in to check on me after I’d gone to bed. I tried to still my eyelids so it would seem like I was asleep. But my pillow was wet with my tears. I always wondered if she saw. She’d look at me for a little bit and then turn and shut the door. And I cried some more.

I remember crying. I don’t remember why.

Childhood sucked. I don’t know why. I’m always happy for people who say they had good childhoods and wonder what that might have been like. I can’t relate to them. I actually can’t relate to a lot of people. Maybe because I never put down roots. But I am a writer and can imagine with the best of them. I can invent a story with a happy kid in it. I think I’d like that.

I was the oldest. We moved a lot. I can remember the times we’d all pile into the car with whatever dogs and cats we had at the time; the top of our station wagon loaded with suitcases.

And we’d leave.

I would cry then, too. Those were heart-wrenching times. I left Lynn. I left Berta. I left Martha. I left so many people behind. Oh, sure, we’d write a little bit, but at some point, those letters would stop. Maybe after a couple of years, either…