Because the traumatic shadows created such haunting darkness in my early universes, my inner energy had to find a route that would allow me to shine, to create, to survive. Neighborhood kids would play dress up in the summertime. We had old clothes over at the neighbor's when her grandkids visited. We would sing and dance and play act like we were queens, not princesses. But those idyllic days of summer in elementary school would change as the family moved from small town, to smaller town, to a town with a seedy gas pump and a malnourished slough. With four moves in four years, my older brother lettered in four high schools but couldn't afford a letter jacket; but I, I kept reading and singing and play acting. I also babysat my little brothers and cooked and cleaned and did laundry for a family of 9. The choirs and the bands took me in. I never felt talented. I felt included. That was the most precious gift of my early universes.
