Robert and Stephen

When I was very young my mom took me on a trip.  We moved slowly walking in the bright sun until we got across the street to more grass and we went into a clean house that smelled clean and a happy and good smelling man was there.  He was clean and smiled.

My mom handed me to him and they spoke in soft sounds.  I was tired from my long trip and Stephen laid me in a crib with my own blankets.  I slept for a long time until I woke up.  Stephen was there.  We were happy.  He told me stories and they made me smile.

Then I felt a loosening and I smelled goop.  Stephen laughed and laid me in the crib.  He talked and talked.  He very carefully lifted up my little legs and slid a diaper under me.  Then he slowly laid me down and undid my diaper and he wiped me and kept telling happy things and I stayed warm and he slowly pulled out the dirty diaper and laid me back on the clean one, and slower than slow, insert the big yellow pins that held my diaper together.


And he talked and laughed and gave me a warm bottle, and sang songs and smiled and I was as happy as I could be.  I got sleepy again and I slept.

When I woke the colors had changed some in the home.  Lights were on.  I was a tiny bit lonely but then Stephen's face was there smiling and laughing.

One day Robert was there with Stephen and music was playing and Stephen gently helped me sort of stand.  I liked doing that.  Then he swept me up and laid me in my crib.

One evening Stephen was in the back room of the house.  I was in the crib  I could sort of feel wetness.  I didn't like it.  I started to cry.  Robert was there of all things.  He walked up to the crib then to the back room.  He came back out and looked at me with sort of a disgust.  Then he held my legs up and undid my diaper.  And he went ugggh. and he held his face twisted with disgust away from me and slowly pulled away my diaper.  I didn't like the feel of it.  I was mad at him.  I cried as loud as I could.  He went in the back room again.  I could hear voices.  I was getting even madder, lying in wetness.  But then suddenly Stephen was there with looks of concern talking to me.  He cleaned me up.  Then he took off the crib sheets.   He held me and we walked around.  I felt better after awhile.  I wondered how long I could cry.  I liked crying.  It felt good to me.

I cried myself to sleep.

One day later they were both there again and Stephen stood me up again.  Then he and Robert stood at a great distance and Stephen called to me.  I took a long hesitant step at least it seemed long to me.  I started to wobble. I was honestly quite scared. Then in two giant steps, instantly Stephen was there and picked me up.  He was laughing.  They were both laughing.  They were joyous.  I felt triumphant.  I was happy.  It was the happiest moment of my life.  We all felt so proud and happy.  I was a very little boy. I could almost walk just like my dad could walk.  He could cross our entire room in three steps.

I miss my dad now.  And I miss Robert and Stephen.  They always smelled so good and were so clean and young and nice and smart.  And caring.  And peaceful.  And loving.

I wonder why no one seems to remember being a baby.  Why is that?  Some people don't seem to remember anything.  That seems weird too.  I was quite young when I began to forget.  But when I had to go in my mom's room and take a nap I would concentrate on remembering.  I would hold those memories.  I would try to imprint them in my permanent memory.  I would concentrate on every day of my life and run through it thought by thought.