One girls recount (part two)

While I can’t remember the order in which things happened in my life the details of the events seem all too vivid.

I remember my mom having this jukebox. I absolutely loved it. I would play my mother’s 8-tracks and dance for hours. My uncle used to sit on the steps leading to the basement and watch me. I wish I had known why he watched me the way he did.

We lived in apartments at one point and so did my uncle. My mother used to send me there to visit him. I remember not wanting to go but she had made me. I think I began to block things that happened there in his apartment as I got older as a way of coping, the way kids sometimes do. He had molested me and it wasn’t until later in my life that I learned my mother had set it up.

Why my father’s involvement in my life doesn’t seem as vivid as my mother’s does , I’m not quite sure. I know he was around, but where I don’t know.

I don’t remember my uncle being around after the apartment situation. Either he moved on or we did.

Stay tuned, as my story will continue…