Random Memories

Well, it has been a bit since I wrote my first memory.  So, I think I will write some short memories I have of my early years.  I remember my mom having to drive back to CT from CA with all six of us kids in the car.  I don’t remember much of the ride except for staying in a room hand watching the Howdy Doodi show and eating in a restaurant.    I don’t know where we stayed in CT while my dad stayed back to sell the house but I remember we eventually moved into a house and it was big.  Next door was a vacant house and we would run around barefoot and make forts in the trees and just be kids.  It was awesome.  I started kindergarten while in that home. I don’t know how long we lived there but we moved to another house in the same town.  My brothers shared a large room on one side of the 2nd floor and my sister and I shared the other large room.  I loved living there.  Our neighbor had a pool and we had two cats.  During our time there I remember in the 3rd grade my mom through me a surprise birthday party, but it wasn’t really a surprise because my sister told me about it.  I also remember ironing my shirt and burning a hole in it, therefore I had to hide it. I also remember having an issue with my bowel movements, like making it to the bathroom on time.  I would take my dirty underwear and put them in a box.  One day, while looking for one of our gerbils, the box was discovered and my sister covered for me.  Thank goodness because I was mortified.  I also couldn’t understand why I was having this issue.  Wow, that was personal.

I remember my dad worked 2nd shift and we only had one car.  We would drop him off and then, in the middle of the night, my mom would pack us all up and go get him from work.  One night, we forgot to bring in my youngest brother and she slept in the back of the station wagon all night.

I will have more to come.  Time to make dinner.

 

Why I am writing this and my First Memories

Hello, so I am not sure where to begin.  I think this is more therapy for me than anything else.  My life may not be a crazy as some, but for me, it has been a roller coaster. Sometimes I thought about writing a book, but I don’t want my family’s attention and criticism.  Also, they can be very sarcastic and mean, not the supportive type that one would assume would be in a family.  So, a blog it is.

I grew up in a large family, six kids and two parents.  We move around a lot, mostly because we didn’t pay rent, and at one point, live in our grandparents basement.  More to come on that.

My first memories, I think, are when we lived in California.  I must have been three, which would make my sister six and my brothers five, four, two and one.  We lived on a populated street with a short trail to the school.  I remember this because we went to the school for a ‘fair’.  They had the game where everyone walked in a circle and one person was in the middle with a cake walking the opposite direction.  When the music stopped, whoever the cake holding person was in front of, won the cake.   I actually won a chocolate cake and was so excited.  When we got home, my mom and I put the cake on the top shelf so my dad wouldn’t eat it.  Unfortunately, the next day, the cake was gone, my dad ate it.  Oh, the horrors of being three.  For some reason, this is my first real memory and I am not sure why it is so burned in my mind.  Maybe it stands out because it is the first time I was disappointed by my dad.

My other predominant memory of life in California as my brothers teasing a boy named Billy.  It is so weird, I was only a toddler and they were saying Bill was ‘in love’ with me.  They were singing “Billy don’t be a hero, come back and make her your wife” by Paper Lance.  It is only recently that I realized my brothers were almost born bullies.  I think my dad had a lot to do with that.  I do know that this attribute only increased as the years went on.

The two vivid memories of me being three are not necessarily happy ones.  I keep thinking I would remember good times from then, however; this is all I have.  A side note, I was told that I didn’t speak until I was three, curious isn’t it?

I need to stop for now, although I feel as if I can write for days.  This is a safe place for me to get out my thoughts and be free.  Thank you.