When I was four or five years old, I lived with my dad, who rented an upstairs apartment from my aunt and uncle. It felt like home most of the time. I was used to not having a mother because my parents were divorced when I was just one and my dad had custody of me. My aunt was there when my dad had to work at night, usually 12:00 a.m. to 7:00 a.m. This was a very traumatic time for me because my favorite uncle, Uncle Frank, had just died and I went to his, and my first, funeral and wake. To this day, forty years later, I can still remember the smell of flowers and perfume - the smell of death. When I smell that smell, it takes me back to the funeral home. .
While I was at the funeral home I was running around and got lost, kind of. I ended up in a room that looked just like the one my uncle was in, except it was dark and no one was in there. At first, I thought everyone had gone home; I walked up to the coffin, and to my horror, it was another man in it. I was scared to death - this was someone I did not know and he did not look real. All I can remember is that pale white face and partially opened eyes. I ran as fast as I could and on the other side of the funeral home found my family. I was happy to be with them, but yet still afraid of the other room, not knowing if that man could harm me.
After the funeral, my dad and my mother went on a trip to an amusement park in Ohio. My father had told me that when they got back we would be a family again. It was strange for me because I had not seen my ma in such a long time, maybe three years. Aunt Carol was going to take care of me, so I was okay with my dad leaving because my aunt was my favorite female relative.
My father and mother left for their trip and I was in for an experience I would never forget. The house we lived in was a two-story with a basement located in northern Indiana. An L-shaped stairwell separated the upstairs and downstairs.
