Walk back out of the nursery into the dining room, and you could go right into Cameron’s room. He had two beds and a TV. We would sing in there. I remember a dream about a tree that impacted me forever. I remember reading The Giving Tree and being so moved by the generosity. The love that didn’t have to be asked for. Past Cameron’s room, you’d go through another door into a long hallway. There was a guest room to your right, with a bathroom nearby. I remember discovering that my great-aunt Paulette had alopecia. She always wore a wig. One day, I saw her without it. I just went wide-eyed. I was innocent, a child—I never would have thunk, ya know? I think she was embarrassed, but my Aunt Paulette is just a beautiful soul no matter what to me. I even wanted to wear the wig at the time... to which I was in fact told no. Later, she pointed out how hairy my back was while we were on vacation in Arkansas. She jumped into the springs and swears she started growing hair because she’d told me how hairy I was. I remember Vinny Ventrella, one of my parents’ friends’ sons, having a nosebleed in that bathroom. He always had nosebleeds. Then you would walk down that long hallway toward my official bedroom. There was this giant mirror. I remember the mirror. Not even my reflection. Just the mirror itself. I had three rooms in that house at different times. One had a chalk wall—my playroom where I would rock out to "I Want Candy" on that banging-ass CD by Aaron Carter, may he rest in peace. In my bedroom, I remember having a giant pile of Halloween candy and one of those old TVs with the knobs on them. I got to have DirecTV. My mom would come in at night and sing You Are My Sunshine. I remember her locking my dad out of the room. He would knock, and it would wake me up. That happened often. I didn’t understand what was going on. I heard bits and pieces. I heard the bad, negative things they said to each other. I heard the tornado. I was in the hurricane. But I didn’t understand there was damage. Not then. I just remember feeling uneasy. And I remember her singing.
