I have made the statement before ... "I don't remember my childhood". And although I have thought that in the past, I have recently had several flashes of memories that, when they come back to me, are vivid and powerful, as if I am once again in that very moment. I can see details, smell fragrances, feel textures of the memory.
This is an amazing phenomenon to me, since I have always considered my sister, Debbie, to be the Memory Keeper in our family. She can recall events that, when she mentions them, come back to me in varying levels of detail. Sometimes I know exactly what she is talking about ... other times I just take her word for it. But she knows every detail of every memory-moment. So when I have flashes of my own memory, it is thrilling. Even if the memory is sad or difficult, I still feel a certain amount of joy over recalling the memory at all.
So, I am using this blog to remember some of my most poingnant childhood memories. For me, for my children, for the fun of it!
Which begs the question...
What is my earliest memory? My first knowledge of being me, in my own unique place and time? Admittedly, for most of us, many of our early memories are created from photographs and stories that are shared with us by the "grown ups" in our lives. And although I cannot say that my thoughts are completely without influence from the grown ups and their stories, my search is for my first memories in my own mind. Memories of every day things that wouldn't necessarily be captured in photos or stories.
My first memories of home....
As I rummage around in the attic of my childhood memories, one thing that comes to my mind over and over is the house that we lived in, when I was around five years old, on Norris Road in Huntsville, AL. At the time it felt like a huge mansion, but I know now that it was a reasonably sized house for the time. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, formal living room, den, dining area and kitchen together, attached garage.
From the front door, you entered the living room, which was a long room with doors and either end. The door to the right led to the den, dining area, kitchen, and another door out to the garage. The door to the left led to a small foyer and the bedrooms/bathrooms from there. My room was behind the living room, basically in the middle of the house. Doors on either side of the room allowed a walkway from one end of the house to the other. The bed that I slept on then is still in our family.
I have so many good memories in this house. So, I want to remember some of these here. Like a trailer for the newest movie, here are some of the things I will remember and share soon...
The time Debbie and I got into the Triaminic!
The Easter chicks
My room, including my (still) favorite doll of all time
Babysitting for Manny
The time Teresa was hit by a car
And so much more!
And I can share it all.. In my own words!
