Continuing to reflect on things I learned in my younger years. I keep thinking about endless talking, and that when I was much younger- ( 5 1/2 yrs old) my parents would often tell me that I was talking a bit too much. I guess I talked until I was asleep. In fact mom used to tell me as a child she knew when I was sleeping because it got quiet.

That all changed after an incident when I was 5 1/2. I remember that house in Skaneateles, the big brick house with lousy water. Well the owner of the home arranged for repairing the well/water issue. It was very common to be able to just go out and play without a parent feeling like they had to be right out there. My mom was in the house with the my younger brothers and I think my sisters were inside too, I definitely don’t remember them out with me.

My “entertainment” outside was the “well man”. I remember it was kinda warm out and I was hanging out with him, thinking we were having a great time. I asked him questions, stood close by to watch, yeah I thought we were doing the stuff together. That was until he asked me if I could quiet down some, then he told me pretty strongly to stop talking.

Oh I would run off for a bit, but returned to see what he was doing. He had various equipment and I remember a 55 gallon drum filled with water too. To this day I am not sure the whole reason for the drum filled with water, but it was part of the well repair.

I ran back to the site he was at, and talking as I tended to do, and all of the sudden he grabbed me, he said he warned me for the last time, then he grabbed my ankles and submerged me upside down in the barrel of water. His intent was not to drown me, but to , I guess, stop my endless chatter. I remember opening my eyes, the water was cold and it was very dark in the barrel. I am sure it was for only a few seconds, but those seconds have left a memory that I am confident will never leave me.

As soon as he put me on the ground, my wet hair dangling in my tear-filled face, I ran like crazy to the house. Crying my eyes out, sobbing and scared. My mom heard me crying and came to the door as I entered the hallway, she asked me what happened, I told her that that man dunked me in the barrel of water. She asked me why, and I sobbed saying I talked too much.

She did go out and say something to him, but no words, no actions, could heal that moment from my mind. Often as I have grown up, people ask me to converse with them, people ask me what am I thinking, people want me to get in a long conversation, but it is something I just can not do. After that dunking, I really do not think I every rattled on again, not like before the dunking. And I left the man alone for the rest of the time too!

I don’t know why it keeps surfacing to the present in my mind but it does. Maybe by jotting it down, maybe that will help it seal itself up in a area in the back of my mind. Most recently it surfaced as I was singing some songs yesterday and the day before, and it made me think that songs bring out thoughts in my soul, they are words I can sing, words I can feel, and somehow way back in my subconscious, it is not talking all the time , as the words make the songs.

The posts on this blog give me a safe way to bring out words too. It is just strange how actions, once they are done, they can’t be taken back. And the result of an action can sometimes change a person for a short time, and sometimes for life.

One of the things I always try to remember, is an action, or a word said—once they are done, they are no longer able to be taken back. That man, he was wrong to do what he did, and his actions… well it saved many people from being exposed to my endless need to talk, but it also took away a part of me. I am sure he is no longer on this earth, and I often wonder if he felt bad after he did that, or if it even left any impression on him. I also wonder what my mom said to him.

Those things I will never know. What I do know is no matter how hard I try to have conversations, I just don’t talk a lot. And that is just how I am, so it is okay. I just had to jot it down, to remind me that actions are not retrievable…

Until later- take care, be kind, Mrs. Justa alias Cindy