Cape Girardeau Missouri, what a place! As far as I can remember our tattered home on the corner with its faded paint, chipped siding, roach infested corners,rat haven basement and haunted attic was a vital part of my childhood.
Like a long, lost, first love trapped in my soul, I still think and even dream about that house. Many of my fondest and most innocent memories from that time have been etched into the fabric of my being. The old saying goes, "if these walls could only talk". Oh! and they would, as if they absorbed every single breath, action, thought and dream! My life would not be the same without those walls.
When i close my eyes I don't see the rats, the roaches or the faded paint. I see an infinite image of a little blonde headed boy with a huge smile stretched across his face, holding the rest of life in the palm of his hands. With the entire world eagerly awaiting his strength and vitality as a whole and compassionate man. He has no pain, no suffering, no worries or responsibilities. What he has is magical and serene. He has his tricycle and the sidewalk paved in front of him.
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