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By Root 340 0

something I looked forward to, so would always try to find a friend. But I was very shy to do that. They usually made friends with me. In my last school in G. Lake Tahoe at a school called Meyers elementary this one girl came up to me, I was new of course and I was alone on the swings, I remember thinking to myself, Why am I not trying to make friends with the other kids, I hate being alone! But for some reason I just could not go up to a group of kids and ask to play with them, too shy I guess. But anyway to get back to the story; she sits next to me on the other swing and starts talking to me and we become friends, she was very nice. I think she was from Russia or Ukraine, her name was Rowan. Then she introduces me to one of her friends, her name was Shawnee who become my “best friend in Tahoe.” She was tall for her age and I was small so I kind of thought of her as my protector. She loved horses and would draw them for me. We had many great days together. And she had a dog named Rowdy who would come on walks with us in the back hills where she lived with her grandma; I loved that dog and was often envious of her because I wanted my own dog so bad. I did have two dogs when I lived with my grandma and grandpa, but the first one they told me they had to get rid of her, her name was Tisha. I cried for days, I remember going outside to go play with her and I couldn’t find her, I ran back inside to tell Ninny and Poppy and that’s when they told me that they gave her away ’cause she was tearing up the backyard, I was so devastated, looking back I think the worst thing was them not telling me about it and me discovering her all of a sudden gone. After that they took me to Disneyland and bought me a stuffed dog that looked just like her, I slept with that dog every night. I wonder what happened to the stuffed animal.

NOVEMBER 3, 1998

I think I want to live by the ocean one day. Have a little cottage overlooking the ocean. I could walk down the steps right onto the warm sand, hear the waves crashing on the rocks, and watch the seagulls in the clear blue sky.

I miss her. I try so hard to see her face in my mind, but I can’t remember. I hate myself for not remembering. Some memories are so blurry it’s like a dream or something.

I keep remembering this one time when I was, oh I don’t know, maybe about 7 or 8, anyway I was playing with my best friend, Jessie, and my mom was taking a shower. We decided we wanted to play hide-and-seek. I went into the bathroom and told her* we were going to hide and when she got out of the shower I wanted her to come find us. I guess the shower water was so loud she didn’t hear me, but I didn’t know at the time and thought she heard me. We hid in the closet. When she came out of the shower and saw that we weren’t in the house she must have thought the worst, like someone had taken us because we were gone. I didn’t understand her fear at the time. I do now. At the time she was frantic, we were still hiding in the closet we heard her call our names, but I thought she was playing our game, so we stayed hidden. Then I heard her yell and run out the door. When we finally came out she was outside yelling for us and her robe had come undone; she was so hysterical she didn’t even notice. When she saw me standing at the door she raced to me and squeezed me tight I thought she would never let me go. I started to cry. I said I was sorry but I thought she had heard me.

DECEMBER 16, 1998

I would give my soul for a picture of her. No, No, No not my soul because nobody can give their soul away … can they? I don’t know, maybe we share our souls with loved ones throughout our lifetimes. Is that possible? I don’t know. Does that kind of love exist? I know I feel enormous love every day for my girls. Even though they don’t know I’m their mom, I still feel this unseen connection with them. Does she feel the same way about me? Does she know I’m still somewhere out here? I wonder if she knows I miss her. I can’t bear to think of her sometimes it’s just too painful for me.

DECEMBER 22, 1998

I want things to be