GONE AT LAST
Hey Vicenze, What? What? Well what are you doing? You know you are not supposed to get outof bed and try to walk. Leaving in sadness and disgust, Pasquale, Pat, to me my father, turned and left. It was a beautiful summer day and Lord knows I wanted to be up and out of that bed. I mean, I was probably about six now, at that time. My stretch of illness lasted a little more than three years. So devastating then. So naturally all consuming for three whole years, my life was at a stand still. Literally. Standstill-can’t walk. Get it? Yeah I know, stupid, corny. Really not deserving any classification what so ever. Well on this beautiful summer day I was in my first of two body casts that cover me from just above the waist, down each leg and down to my ankles. Legs spread apart and hld that way by some kind of iron or metal bar at the bottom. What fun! So, with the sun shining and all, I decided I was going to get out of that bed and somehow treck on outside. I did get out of the bed and managed to steady myself at the bedside when my father suddenly came in. Oh boy. That’s when he turned and left in disgust and frustration or some not so hot feelings. Little did I know he was coming to take me outside into the sunshiene. He was thinking about me I guess and felt bad for me , pity, that I had to “suffer” indoors, in bed on such a beautiful day. ell, big deal you say. Yeah, big deal. I dissappointed my father and I so badly wanted his love and attention. Not that I had any reason to believe that he loved me. Oh well, just another memory from another lifetime, from another past. Gone at last.
When Synapses Go Bad 