I remember getting a cut on my left middle finger when I was young. I lived in Hawaii from the age of three to the age of eight. My dad was in the Air Force and we lived on base. It was a great experience!
I know that we lived off base also, but I don't remember that so much. I do remember the pictures, but I don't really remember living off base. But the cut on my left middle finger happened at one of my mom's friend's house.
We had driven to a different part of the island. I don't know if they owned or rented, but because they weren't Hawaiian, I imagine they rented. My mom was visiting with the lady in the kitchen or living room.
They were sitting in there talking and smoking. I was exploring because I was old enough to do that. I think my brother had been born, so I must have been six or older. But I remember going to their back door on the end of their kitchen.
I was looking out through the screen door. I was looking out at the mountain lifting up behind them. It was so green and so beautiful! And the clouds were kind of low but they weren't very thick so you could see the mountain. But part of it disappeared. It was just so lush and beautiful!
I was looking back there enjoying looking at the stuff they were growing in their backyard and looking at the mountain and the clouds and thinking how beautiful it was. I was a little short so I was holding on to the sill of the window in the screen window door. So the way it worked is a lot like doors that I've seen where it was a sliding pane window like in a window frame but on a door.
And it slid up and locked into place up so that you had a screen in the middle of the door and then a solid window underneath. It was a little higher than waist height for an adult person but for me being a kid I was having to hold on to the sill and kind of pull myself up a little bit to see out the screen window.
While I was sitting there or standing there admiring the view and pulling myself up to do it something slipped and the window that was above my finger came down rapidly and came down on my finger. I tried to pull my hand out of the way. But I was too slow and it caught my middle finger and gave me a gash.
It bled and bled. I cried and cried. I think I did like my dad did and shook my finger because it hurt so much. Mom and the lady came in and fussed over me and cleaned it up and put a bandaid on it.
In my mind it was a terrible experience and a deep gash but I don't think it was really that bad. But as a souvenir I have the scar to this day.
So if you ever see the scar on my middle finger that's where it came from.
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