These are the things you don’t put off. The times you wish you’d thought to sit down with a parent and get the details of the baby years, the toddler years. The ones you don’t remember. Who am I kidding? I need someone to regurgitate most of my life back to me, maybe jar my memory, give me some clues. Facts, just go with the facts I know, for now.
Birth, though I still don’t understand the point of my life, I was born. May 24. I did get that right or should I say my parents did. Perfect time of year to be born. Before the heat of summer, the end of a school year, occasionally on Memorial Day weekend. The time of year when everything is green and blooming. Gemini. I never regretted being born on that day. Thirty-eight minutes earlier and my sister and I would have had the same birthday. She would have hated me if that would have happened, something else she would have conjured up as a competition.
My name, Jody Lynette. A name I have never liked. Why couldn’t I have had a cool name like my sister, Jaqueline Annette. My name wasn’t feminine, my middle a second to my sister’s name. It was as if I got the leftovers, second fiddle. I don’t think I’ve ever said my name out loud more than a handful of times. I hate it that much. Why couldn’t I have had a feminine name, Olivia for example, something traditional. Hell, I would have even taken a hippie name, something cool. And Lynette, just blah though my best friend and I had the same middle name so I didn’t feel completely alone.
Fontana Rose 