Finding childhood memories buried deep in the long ago... like searching for a needle in a haystack. I remember only very scattered memories of my youngest days. Then bigger pieces of the middle childhood years, and more from the teens.
I remember feeling loved and cared for. I remember the smell and feel of clean sheets that had been hung outside on the clothesline. I remember meal times, and sometimes sitting for a long time as I resisted eating those peas. I remember holidays with family cousins. I remember Grandma and her weird fox stole, with the glass eyes staring at me. I remember Sunday drives in the country in our Ford station wagon and camping trips during the summer. I remember slumber parties with cousins. And sneaking out at night at a friend’s house.
These are just a few of the glimpses I can see looking back into my long ago past. Writing this now opens the flood gate as they tumble out. I wonder what memories my own children have. And what memories are we making today?
1 comment:
I think their memories as much nicer than we think. We're so worried about making everything perfect -- and they remember they were loved. Thanks for visiting my site. You write very well.
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