“And that’s when I heard the whisper in my heart’s ear: “It’s not about your childhood. It’s about who you are!” ― C. JoyBell C.
What do you remember about when you were a kid? I don’t remember much before school age. Just a few rare memories from very young ages. We drove to Oregon on a family trip when I was five, almost six, and I remember little bits of that trip here and there. I remember playing in an old bus and thinking one of the kids we were visiting was not much fun to be around. I remember frankfurters such as I’d never seen before at one place. I remember Aunt Martha who rode home with us to visit family here in Kentucky and how she let us pull up the loose skin on the back of her hand and how odd that seemed to me. I remember sitting on the edge of a steep cliff or so it seemed to me at Mount Rushmore. I don’t remember seeing the carved presidents although that’s why we were sitting there.
Then after I started school, I do remember much more. Learning to read from those books about “See Jane jump” and so forth. Even then I wondered why they couldn’t have more of a story for us to read. I remember being very shy but well behaved. And that brings me to my reason to meander down this road tonight.
Last week when I went to the grocery store after the toilet paper rush was in full swing with empty shelves throughout as though people thought all groceries were going to close for forever at five that night, I didn’t get some of the things I was shopping for but I did get a gift. A woman I didn’t recognize stopped me to talk. And no, at that time we didn’t keep our proper social distancing. The six feet advice came later.
First she told me I looked like my mother. I’ve always treasured that compliment any time I got it which was rarely. So our conversation was off on a good note. From some of the things she said I had guessed her family but still didn’t know her. So, I just asked. Sometimes that’s better than wondering forever. She was one of a large family of eight children, I think she said, who at one time rented a house from my grandfather. I had often heard my mother talk about the family, but I didn’t remember when they lived on my grandfather’s farm. The lady was a few years older than me and so had more memories of that time. She told me how kind my grandfather was to her family and how nice my mother and dad were too. It seems when the family went through a rough time, my grandfather told them not to worry about paying the rent for a while. She did go on to say that when her mother later was able to she did pay what she owed on the rent. Obviously it was a pride thing for her to pay her debts.
The lady went on to say that my mother sometimes stopped to get them to take us all down to the creek to go swimming and what fun that was. And then she said she remembered how I was such a busy little girl and made it sound as though I may have been ready to get into everything. It was interesting to see myself through another’s eyes and to picture myself as a very little girl the way I can picture my daughter and granddaughters at that young age. But I had never really tried to imagine how I might have been during those toddler years.
I left the store feeling as though I had received a sweet gift. She didn’t have to share those memories with me. Often we don’t take time to share good things with others, but there in the grocery store we paused a few minutes to go back in time. I didn’t remember, but I rode her memory train back with her and saw my family and me through her eyes. I left the store with something better than a sack of groceries. I had a heart full of memories.
The Caption Game is over
I started to use the picture of Mom and me for the caption picture last week but decided to save it for this memory story instead. I do appreciate how you all made my caption game such fun this time, and the same as with the other pictures, you came up with some great captions for my busy artists picture. I liked Mary’s about doing the limbo after the sticks dried. Marji had the great idea that I could have told the story of Moses and his staff while they were painting the walking sticks. Connie has obviously been around boys and said they’d think they were snakes and try to scare somebody. I enjoyed the captions on each picture and appreciate all those of you who took time to play the game. We’ll do it again sometime. But first we’ll have to try another mystery picture game soon.
I did pick my two winners by giving each comment a number, throwing the numbers in an electronic drawing hat and picking the winning numbers on randomnumber.org. Mary O from Florida and Kathy L from NC were the winners. Mary picked Orchard of Hope and since I gave her the option of grab bagging another of my books instead of the other choices I gave her, she picked Love Comes Home. Kathy did the same but picked The Refuge and The Blessed.
As always, thanks for reading.
What’s one of your earliest memories?