After my parents came back to the house to tell me which one of them I was going to live with, everything’s a little fuzzy.
I just know the judge picked mom.
So, I said bye to dad—see you in several months!—and mom drove four-year-old me 500 miles east to her parents’ house back in Ohio.
I have memory flashes of sleeping and bathing at my grandparents. We lived there for a while. Celebrated my fifth birthday there.
My first life-reset.
My grandparents lived on a 43-arce farm in the Ohio countryside. A big, white farmhouse with black shutters.
A huge concrete porch where I spent countless hours playing. Barbecuing with my grandfather. Staring at the majesty of the vast night sky.
A red barn. Where I was chased by angry chickens. Where I would sometimes sneak into the hayloft to read books. Where I killed…
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