As I could still talk and read and write in English none of which helped me here, it did help with learning the new language my parents spoke. Over the next 5 months I learned a few words like mom, dad, up, food, potty and my name. It basically means Kaiser, during that time I was finally able to see better I took in any new detail I could. The home is fairly big, it has a space that looks like a kitchen and a table to eat as well as two rooms one where my brother sleeps, and one where me and my parents sleeps. My father would always come and go and when he came back he was always covered in soot and smelling like metal and iron. His hands where scared and rough but gentle whenever he played or picked me up, life hit a comfortable pattern full of love and learning. We always had enough food on the table and the family always sat down for dinner together even if someone had been gone all day. It was through and through a true family.
I had just turned one, they brought me some cooked dough with sugar draped over the top, I want to say it's a cookie but it is clearly not, they didn't sing a song or clap or anything like that they just hugged me and asked if there was anything I wanted to do. At this point in time I could speak the language very well to both my parents delight and surprise, immediately I responded mom can I have some books, pleaseee I wanna learn how to read. Both my mom and dad's eyebrows raised at this but how could they object, so the very next day mom came back with a stack of books most of them equivalent to the alphabet and numbers, but I didn't care I was one step closer to learning more about the world I lived in now.