Most Joyous Memory

My most joyful memory is not a captured moment waxed a patina of nostalgia, set on the mantle of my heart to be adored, although I harbor several. This memory lives in a fire proof safe bolted to the foundation my soul.

This joyful memory is actually a memory of a memory. It was ten years ago. I lay in a tangle of limbs and twisted sheets. My seven year old boy's toes tangled in my hair. My husband's leg giving me a dead one. My two year boy old plastered to my side and now the proud owner of my pillow. An errant fart. A thought of the couch strolls by. I could have all three cushions to myself, when a memory of myself bleeds through.

I must have been about ten. Too old for my Little Mermaid night light. But this night, not even Ariel couldn't keep the fear at bay. I lived with my father and stepstepmother because my own mom wasnt in a position to care for me and my stepfather was a mean alcoholic, ambivalent at best. My fathers house it was. While my Dad loved me, his wife did not. She also the wore the proverbial pants in that relationship. Cargo pants, pockets full of nasty things. And cinched them tight. Sending me to my mothers house would be expensive. Child support. I knew all of this even then, which is why I nervous climbing the stairs to their bedroom. I wanted to ask my dad to come tuck me in again, perhaps get him to sit with me a while so I didnt have be alone. That's where Fear always found me.

I stood in the triangle of light out of the half open door.

"Dad"?

"Yeah"? He asked from the other side, where the lights were on an the tv played. I really wanted to be in there.

"Can you come tuck me in"? I asked, still from the other side of the door.

One beat. Two.

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

I walked down a few of the carpeted steps waiting for him. He could walk with me down the rest and through the long dark hallway to my room.

"Don't go down there, Mike, she's fine." Came from his wife.

I waited for about five minutes. He didnt come. I went back to bed. Alone. I remember crying and trying to envision my future husband, looking forward to never having to face the nights alone.

I remembered this memory, draped in the arms (legs, and toes) of my family. The tears that night were joyous.