Looking back at some old notebooks from my younger days, I came across an entry that simply stated, “She said, ‘Smell my flower,’ to me today.” With those three words, I instantly found myself back in 6th grade and recalled the exact moment that seemed important enough to commemorate in my diary.
In 6th grade, I lived in Lexington, Kentucky with my mother and step-father. We had moved there from New Jersey when I was near the end of 5th grade. Under the guise that we were “taking a vacation” to visit our friends in Kentucky, our mother had checked my younger and sister out in the middle of a school day. After a week in Kentucky, we were told my mother and father were getting a divorce – and that we would never return to our school, our friends, our home, or our pets.
By 6th grade, a few months had gone by since…
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