Flying Above My Childhood Home (May 24, 2019)

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Flying above my childhood home I see the spirits of my past dancing in the wind. The indescribable joy of my father letting go of the bike as I stay upright. The unrelenting attempts of getting a snowball just right to throw at my sister. The millions of hours spent on the lake. Fishing for creatures too big for my little arms to carry. Soaring out of the tube as my mom looks on in horror from the back of the boat. American Idol nights spent cheering and auditioning ourselves during the commercials.
On the other side of the house is a different story. Ghosts mourn the loss of my family. Too many people taken too soon. They rummage through my closet of black dresses, deciding which one to stain with tears this weekend. A little girl trapped between a wall and the person she thought she could trust. The person who violated her in ways that still traumatize today. Ways that haunt my dreams while I’m awake. A girl who watches her grandma slip into the abyss of Alzheimer’s, forgetting who she is. Forgetting, helplessly abandoning the girl who needs her the most. 
I fly over the house of my childhood and see the story that shaped me.

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