chocolate is a verb

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Tag Archives: steps

a work…

fall…

the back steps in happier timesDuring the time my mother was away, when I was about 4 (before the photo), a woman named Henny came to the house to take care of me while my father was at work. She had short, pale hair and seemed very old. I don’t recall how we spent our days. We didn’t have a television, so probably there was coloring and books and playing outside, whatever that might entail.

Our house was built on a slope, the front door at street level, the back of the house perched above a full basement. A door from the living room led to a narrow deck and a flight of stairs down to the patio. One day I fell down the steps, the sharp wood knocking at every part of me all the way to the bottom.

I wasn’t seriously hurt, but when my father came home from work that evening, I was waiting eagerly to tell him about my fall. He laughed. This was not the response I expected or wanted, or, even long after, understood.

It’s one of the things I would ask him about if I had another chance.