The trip home in the large truck, still the plants waving in the wind, seemed a slow progression, more like a funeral procession. We were headed home where it seemed a war had destroyed our father. It is a story in and of itself that I will not get into. But we would unravel that story in sadness. We made sure mom would have a good summer and our Aunt would stay with her another semester or more. But eventually the house would grow silent with her there along.
I was in a dilemma, after summer I would have no where to live. My brothers were going back to school in the fall, they were all set, but I was broke. There was no room for me with my aunt and uncle living with my mother, me and my brothers were staying on and off with our four grandparents, but only for the summer. I had no money for tuition.
I sat down and wrote the dean of women at the university. I explained my dilemma and sat back and waited. I could not find work, most work was too hard for me to do as it relied on a working memory and I could not remember what the instructions were. But at least I could read now. I had no idea how to even get a good job. Filling out forms was still a challenge, one I still have, as I do not see everything on the page and can not recall the information they ask for. But I tried, and tried, and tried, and tried some more. I landed a job picking rotten berries on an experimental farm. I had no transportation other then my old one speed bike. I rode it about ten to fifteen miles to work up and over what seemed like mountain hills. I never before realized how often it rained in the summer, once for two weeks straight. The rotten berry juice would roll down my arms into my clothing and smell, stink, and stick. But I could care less about that or the commute. I was earning money to go back.
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