>In my mind, we had only lived in our new little apartment for just a short time. But frankly, I really don’t know how long we had lived there when this next event happened.

One of my favorite memories of being younger, was my mom reading to me every night. I loved books from an early age and wanted her to constantly read to me. She read to me on a nightly basis, although sometimes reluctantly.

On one particularly occasion my mother was reading to me my favorite book-“The Ginger Bread Man”. We were sitting on the couch cuddled next to each other. We were about half way through the book when something strange began to happen. My mom stopped reading and was silent for a small period of time. I looked up at her and it seemed to my four year old mind that she was going to sneeze. She motioned (at least that’s how I interpreted it) for me to move away. I stood up from the couch and watched my mom fall down on the cushions as she began to convulse. Her eyes rolled back into her head, she foamed at the mouth and made low growling sounds.

As a small child, alone and watching strange things happen to my mom, I was scared beyond belief. I didn’t know what to do! There was a wall dividing the dining room from the living room. Not knowing what else to do, I ran to the other side of the wall and cried as I listened to my mom lying on the couch having convulsions.

Although it seemed like an eternity, it was more than likely just a few minutes. My mother came to after coming out of her seizure. She was disoriented and could barely hold an intelligible conversation. She asked me what had happened and I told her as well as a 4-year old vocabulary could muster. She hugged me and said we should get ready for bed….

(to be continued)