Are You There God?

When I was a kid my Mom worked 2nd shift. I didn't see her much. I buried myself in Lite Brite. And at night I would make mommy a picture and leave it on for her to see when she came home.

A few years later she must have been working 3rd. I remember in the summer I wasn't supposed to wake her. So I would stand by her bedside with my face in her face until she woke up. She didn't love it.

Then she was back on 2nd. She missed all my games and I would call and tell her how I did. She had to ask the guys at work what I was talking about when I said things like, "I hit a grand slam!" so she would know whether or not to cheer or console.

I was 12 when I got my period. And I lived with my dad. Me and my dad. There wasn't exactly a supply of feminine products under the sink. Fortunately it was in the winter and it just so happened to snow that day. No school, thank god.

I could stay home with my cramps and a book. Back at school, it was dramatic. It felt like everyone knew. Probably because they did. In gym class we had to announce it during roll call to be excused from group showering. We took co-ed roll call so we did it in 'code'. As if all the boys didn't know what DOT meant. It was quite humiliating.

I'm not sure what this has to do with Lite Brite. But it's a bit like the church sign I look forward to every night. The Lite Brite, not my period. Again, how'd we get on this?

It's me Margaret.