Prewriting Exercise 2

I'm sorry I have to do this again. It's hard getting started.

I want to start out with a memory (for my piece).

So I have two "earliest memories" of mom's craziness. I think I was four for both of them. And I didn't know mom was crazy yet. It is only with hindsight that I am able to make sense of them.

The first one I was in the kitchen. It was after dinner and everyone was in the living room watching tv. Well probably not everyone. But that's where people were. I was by myself. I was counting the little designs on the wall paper. I want to say that the designs were pink flowers with a little green. I also want to say that the wall paper was a yellowish color, probably stained. If anyone wants to correct me on that, the correction is welcomed.

I couldn't reach to count the flower designs high on the wall so I decided to just count one row. But the designs were not in a straight row. They zig zagged or something. So I decided to count the designs above and below the "straight line." This is totally not making sense. But I'm trying. This is why I prewrite!

Anyway, so I started counting 1, then I'd go across and up, 2. across and back down, 3. Across and down again, 4. Across and back up, 5. It was a long process for a four year old. I kept losing count or missed a design. I started over quite a few times until I lost my patience. I just wanted to count! So I stopped caring about when I missed a design or if I lost count. I just kept on going.

I want to say that I got up to ten or eleven when I was interrupted again. This time but a metallic rectangle sticking out of the wall. I couldn't tell what it was. At first I was scared to touch it. But it didn't take long before I was pulling at it and flicking it to see if it moved.

While observing it, Dad came in, surprising me. He was refilling his dinner plate from a pot on the stove. I asked him what the rectangle was. He took a few steps closer to me, plate in hand, and squinted. "Oh, that's just the knife your mother threw at me last night." Then he left. Did he say "your mother" or "mom" or "mommy?" I can't remember exact words. Probably not mommy...

I looked at it, and I recognized it. The metallic rectangle was the part the blade's plastic handle usually held and covered. The handle broke when dad tried to get the knife out of the wall. I think he told me that. It was a steak knife. The teeth and point were completely lost in the wall.

I was confused. Why would mom throw a knife at dad? Seems like an obvious question to ask now. But I guess it's a lot for a four year to take in. I gave up trying to count the flower designs after that. But I don't remember being to upset about it. Just confused.
I wonder how long that knife was there before someone eventually pulled it out.



The second memory is much more vague. Again, I think I was about four.

All the kids were in the backyard. I vaguely remember Joybeth and Jessica and possibly Jason (or was it Jen?) hiding and circling around our pool. I followed and asked what game they were playing. Or did I ask why they were hiding? Someone told me, maybe Joybeth, that they were hiding from mom and to go away because I made too much noise.

I was upset cause I thought I wasn't allowed to play. So I went behind the garage and played my own make believe game until someone, I think Jason, came and got me.

I also have vague memories of yelling from the house and dad coming out to tell us everything was okay, in his "grumpy" way.

But memories are difficult. I could have imagined the yelling because it's familiar to me. And I could have imagined that dad came out because I KNOW he came out and found us all hiding in the garage in Brooklyn to tell us that everything's fine (in the "grumpy" tone, of course).

I could remember that it was Joybeth telling me that they were hiding from mom because that memory had been mixed with other memories of Joybeth explaining the fights to me when we lived in Staten Island. Apparently it took me a long time to understand what mom was so upset about. Joybeth clarified things for me.

Likewise with Jason. I could remember it was Jason who came and got me because Jason was the safe figure growing up. The Piccolo. I could explain more, but Piccolo sums it up. If you don't know DBZ, I'm sorry. But who else would get Gohan off the mountain if not Piccolo? It's okay if that doesn't make sense. And no, Piccolo didn't actually get Gohan off the mountain but he did give him apples! Oh internal nerd, I do let you have your moments.

So with all those factors, I begin to doubt my own memories. All the events, all the late night talks, the sneaking around, the pretending to be asleep, the "your mother!"s, they all blur together. And everyone remembers something different.

I have a headache.

I've written that first memory so many times. But it's so hard for me to explain. Why? Cause it's so fuzzy? I might have to talk it out with someone...

Gah, I really do have a headache. But I really need to write this.

Okay.
Quick walk. Get some air. Breathe. Possibly phone call and then type, type, type.

You see that? That's discipline. I can plan it perfectly now. Execution is a bit harder.