Omaha

When I was three or four, we moved to Omaha, Nebraska. My guess is that this coincides with my Dad’s vacuum business going bankrupt, although I’m not sure of it. I do have memories of Omaha, but they’re sketchy at best. My little brother was born in Omaha. The only thing I remember of this is a pink cake, which is strange, considering he is my little brother, not sister.

I don’t know what my Dad did for a living then. I suppose this is when he began selling life insurance. Memories from this time include the following.

• There was an elderly couple living next door. They had Dachshund puppies.
• I had some John Deere tractor toys. Some neighborhood kids stole them.
• I think I had a little red peddle car.
• My brother, Mike, smacked me for doing something stupid and I fell backward, hitting my head on a window sill requiring stitches. I’m sure this did wonders to his relationship with my mom, his step-mother.
• I had a brilliant idea to climb a metal shelf, thereby becoming stuck and decided to hang from one of the shelves which resulted in nearly severing my fingers from my hands.

Once again, my mother was extremely ill after the birth of my brother. I don’t remember this, but my grandmother came to live with us. Perhaps this is when I lived with my Aunt? One of these day’s I’ll get this cleared up.