A Trip down Memory Freakin’ Lane. 1

I’m not finding any real answers today. so I did a little reminiscing. For some odd reason, I’m remembering more than  I want to. Somehow. I’m not one to dwell. I was taught many things  growing up. I was taught to keep outsiders out. I was taught if something ever went wrong or I got into trouble of any kind, no matter what I said, never tell them I’m adopted or they will blame everything on that. I was almost drilled on some points. I was told “Now here is what you’ll say…”  I was taught to have no interest in my natural family that my adopted parents were my real parents, after all, my mother didn’t “just spread her legs” to have me. I was taught to always be grateful and to know how lucky I got it. No matter what happens in life, I have no right to complain as “”it could always be worse.”

“Today is the big day” the social worker? said to me in a vehicle. We had just left a big place with weird counters and aisle-like things. Sorry, I was rather short at the age of 18 months. I’m not sure but I think she said something about “this time you won’t be coming back and to not worry, it is OK.” I think she told me to be polite. I remember the kitchen and the couple in there. The social  worker (if that is who she was) talked a while in the kitchen  with them.  For some reason, I thought I was leaving with her again  despite her saying  what she did earlier. Kids are weird like that. She told them not to call me any name at first so as not to confuse me. She asked if they had picked one out.   I remember for fact her saying ” Soon she will have no memories at all.” She told them that they try not to send old toys as it tends to make children linger in old ways and lives. She said “she is young enough that this shouldn’t be a problem.” There was always a lot of whispering going on around me, pointing, smiling, “aweing” and the words “she” “her” “herself” were used. A lot. I was quite the item. Item. I remember that day but not one damn day before them. I grew to resent this woman because she turned out to be right, soon there were no memories at all. I tried to run after her when her leg slipped through the screen door before slamming shut. I was with the new couple. My adopted father said, “You are Susie now.” My mother said “Bill, she said not to yet.” He answered “Well Lucy Susie, sounds the same right? It’s close enough isn’t it, Susie? Lucy, what a name, Jesus.” My new mother said something about my clothes and how they were “Niiice clothes” but we are going to dress you right now. She bathed me and undid my hair and griped about it somehow.  I was Susie now. Story goes the back of my head was bald and Amom said it was from tying it up too tight. She baby oiled the back of my head due to some advice from the doctor or something. Dr Root. I remember him. I went to see him a lot before he retired. Then it was Dr Levy. I had roseolla on my face and “nervous bowels” . I used to call my Adad Bull as I always heard my Amom calling for him. I liked my Uncle.  My mother’s sister’s husband. He came over and acted silly bringing me new red sneakers. I liked him and them. They weren’t those patent leather things I had to sport all the time with my new parents. They were quite cool red sneakers. I called him Wa. That was his name. I can name folks too right? Isn’t that how life goes? New names for everyone. I liked the paper boy as I just knew that he new my way home. I used to call him Johnny even though that wasn’t his name. He was nice to me but my new parents apologized to him for me bothering him. He said it was alright but they hid me when he came to collect just the same. I knew I was looking for two boys who names sounded like Johnny and David. I often wonder if they were foster siblings. Maybe they were siblings. I have to say “sounded like” because who knows with such a child who didn’t speak clearly. I must not have, as my Aparents didn’t seem to understand a thing I said for quite some time. I had lots of dreams of places and things. I used to cry when I watched certain movies or shows. I loved heidi but would cry cause she left the farm. My Aparents got a regular kick out of that. “Tell them how you cried when Heidi left the farm, Susie. Oh GOD did she carry on. Hahaha, she was really going on about it. Right Susie? Fresh kid you. hahahaha.”  Yeah, hahahahaha. I was such a great source of entertainment. I was like a little weird science project. Or perhaps a social experiment gone wrong. Hahahahaha.