I'm having a flash back of when I was a little girl. I may have been three years old, or maybe four. Definitely under six, and the only reason I know that is because I remember the house it happened in.
The house in town, on Fourth St. The house with an epic porch. The house with pillars in the living room. The house with a half bathroom by the kitchen. The house with two stories and basement, and that means four flights of stairs. The house with a fenced in backyard. The house with no air conditioning.
I've lived in each house for six years. The Fourth St house had the honor of years 1-6. I remember much from that house, and sometimes I still dream about it. I loved that house. I loved it despite some of the memories being painful.
I remember falling asleep, crying, in my parents bed. I remember screaming and Mom and Dad rubbing my legs, trying to help me while all I could do was kick and squirm. "It hurts so bad!" I sobbed. What was happening to me? I think they probably cried, too. Daddy knew what was wrong, all too well. Leg cramps. Something I would learn to deal with on a regular basis. Growing quickly and being tall means that stretching feeling, the feeling of your bones being pulled, you muscles stretched. Growing.
I can recall them telling me what was happening, but my tears drowned them out.
When I woke up, I was in my own bed.
The reason this is coming up tonight? Anytime I get any kind of leg cramp, I think of that first time. I just hope I'm not growing tonight.
"Wisdom is nothing more than healed pain." [Robert Gary Lee]
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