Memories From My Childhood

            My earliest memories are very explicit, and in my attempts to understand my current frame of the world, I will describe some of these very early memories from my childhood.

1.              I remember visiting Mrs. Baker’s house.  She was our childless, elderly next door neighbor on Ben Avon Street, where I lived until almost my 4^th birthday.  She had this beautiful china with a blue Wedgewood design that I just adored.  I loved looking at the china and I remember thinking how very special it was.  She would pour me some milk in a tea cup and saucer, and give me some cookies or graham crackers and we would “have tea.”  I remember so much about her home.  Pretty pictures on the wall and delicate figurines were on shelves and tables throughout the house.  Intricate lace doilies lay a top most of the furniture, and there was a scent of perfume, dust, and “old” in the house.  I particularly remember the basement – a very dank, and dark cellar, with a dirt floor.  It smelled musty and was such a contrast to the pleasant kitchen where we had our tea.  I remember doing my best to not touch anything, but what I treasure most is the undivided attention that Mrs. Baker gave me when I came for tea.  I knew that she adored my brother Harry, but when I came, she made me feel special too.  I loved her for that, because at home, I felt like Harry was the prince of our house and could do no wrong and I could do no right.  At Mrs. Baker’s she loved me for me, and did not try to correct me or tell me what was wrong.  She just allowed me to be who I was.

2.              I remember going to Huckleberry’s with my Dad on a Sunday morning while my brothers were in Sunday School.  I was not yet in Kindergarten, so this was special Daddy and me time.  He would hold out his pinkie for me to grab as we walked to the restaurant, and I was his princess.  He let me choose whatever I wanted for breakfast, and showed me off to all of his friends.  Some of the men would ask him who was “his date,” and he would tell them that I was his “best girl.”  When breakfast was over, we would go to the train station and wait for a train to come into the depot.  He and I loved waiting for the trains and hearing all of the loud sounds that they made.  Sometimes, in the spring and summer, we would visit a little deer farm, and I would feed some fawns with a bottle or give some grain to pheasants.  I remember not wanting the morning to end, but it always did, and we would have to go pick up my brothers and then I was just lost in the crowd again.

3.              I remember a time when I was about two and half, and I was supposed to be napping in my crib.  I climbed out (got my bed for my third birthday), and saw my brothers and parents outside on the swing set.  We were supposed to go to Conneaut Lake Park when I got up from my nap.  I saw a bottle of baby powder on the corner of the dresser and a penny.  I put the penny in my mouth, and then shook the baby powder all over the floor of my room.  I don’t know why I did it – I just liked seeing it come out of the bottle and it smelled good.  I heard my Mom and jumped into my crib again, but I swallowed the penny.  I was so scared she would find out that I swallowed the penny, that even when she started yelling at me and telling me that we couldn’t go to the Park and that I ruined the day for everyone in the family because of the powder mess that I had made, I remember being more worried that she would know I put the penny in my mouth.  My mom told me several times that I ruined everyone’s plans, and that I needed to think about how every one else felt.  In later years,   I told my Mom this story, and she always says there was no penny.  But I recall swallowing it.  I even remember what it felt like sliding down my throat when this sense of horror came over me that I would be in so much trouble.  I had a picture of Hey Diddle Diddle on the wall in my bedroom, and I remember thinking that the cow jumping over the moon was disappointed in me too.

4.              When we moved to Charlotte, I was almost 4.  I remember losing my glasses and when I tried to tell my Mom that I couldn’t find them, she locked me out of the house and told me that I could not come back in until I found them.  I looked everywhere I could think of around the house, and tried to go back inside.  My Mom asked if I found my glasses, and I told her I hadn’t.  She said that I couldn’t come in until I found them.  I remember feeling that I would have to live outside by myself for the rest of my life because I couldn’t find them.  I cried and cried and she did not come to help me.  She hollered out the door to keep looking.  I remembered that I had visited a neighbor that day, and I went up the street to her house.  My glasses were on the seat of her sandbox, and I remember thinking that now I don’t have to be outside all by myself forever and my Mom would be happy.  But she yelled at me some more when I came in, and told me that I had to take care of my glasses, and she barely spoke to me until dinner.  I remember wondering why she wasn’t happy that I found my glasses, but still mad that I had lost them in the first place.

5.              Another Charlotte memory was when a boy named Peter who lived up the street from me decided it would be fun to cross a six-lane highway to get to a school with an open gymnasium. He wanted to play basketball there. We crossed that road three different times before we got caught. A police officer saw us crossing the highway and picked us up. Peter’s mother thought I was a bad influence so she didn’t let me come over again for many weeks. Although I was only four, I knew I had made a bad decision. If that had been today, my mother would have probably been arrested, but back then, the responsibility was placed where it belonged—on the one who made the mistake. That was me. I remember being relieved that we got caught because I didn’t like crossing that road, nor did I like basketball anyway.

6.              One day in Charlotte, there was a big snowstorm.  I was at Nursery School and the carpool mom told me that she couldn’t take me home because of the hill we lived on and that I would have to go to her house.  I really don’t have the actual memory, but my Mom tells me that I gave her explicit directions to get to my Nana and Grampa’s house, and I spent the night there.  What I do recall about that night was my worry that I didn’t have my pajamas there.  Nana gave me one of Grampa’s undershirts to wear, and I was horrified.  I kept telling her that my brothers would laugh at me because I looked so funny in Grampa’s undershirt.  Nana kept telling me that my brothers couldn’t see me in the undershirt, but I just felt like they would KNOW.  I was so embarrassed and humiliated and Nana tried to reassure me that I was just being silly.  I remember thinking that she was just trying to make excuses for not having any girl-stuff at her house for me, and that my brothers would indeed know how ridiculous I looked, and I would NEVER live it down.

7.              I was 2-1/2 and our dog died.  My dad and brothers were going to bury her in the ravine across the street from our house.  I insisted on tagging along.  It was winter, and the path down the steep ravine was covered in ice and snow.  I slipped and tumbled all the way down.  My Dad was so worried. It really upset him.  I thought it was funny and wanted to do it again!  I think it is odd that I don’t remember anything that my brothers said or did, but I do remember somersaulting all the way down.  I also wasn’t really sad about the dog either, but we hadn’t had her very long.

8.              I remember singing in the car.  When we sang songs, I always felt alive and a part of something important in our family.  Everyone was kind to each other, and we didn’t argue when we sang.

9.              My Mom read Mr. Popper’s Penguins to us when I was 4.  We were in Charlotte, and I remember being in the den with the shiny paneling on the walls and sitting on the sofa next to my Mom, snuggled close to her.  She did enjoy reading to us.  I know she read other books too, but I only remember this one.  I asked her to read more, and it seemed it was always time for bed.

10.           When I was in Kindergarten, I remember meeting my friend Davey Kirkpatrick and we would walk to school together, picking up others on our way.   I remember his Mom asking him if he “made a tinkle” which he would do, and then we would kiss each other before heading out the door.  Davey was the valedictorian of our graduating class and never gave me the time of day past 4^th grade.  But I stole many kisses from him in Kindergarten!

11.           The best part of kindergarten was playing at the sink.  If we were very, very good, we would get coloring in the soapy water, and we could wash the toy dishes.  I loved washing dishes.  The water felt so good, and washing the suds off of the toy dishes was so satisfying.  When no one would play with me, I would just go wash dishes.

12.           I wanted Mom to teach me to read and she told me I would learn to read at school.  I remember the first day of First grade when we finally got our reading book.  I opened the cover, and was so disappointed to learn that the reading on the first page was:   “Oh.”   The second page—“Oh!  Oh!” and the third page “Oh! Oh! Oh!”  I was angry at my Mom.  She said that I was going to learn to read!  Like Mr. Popper’s Penguins and Heidi and Nancy Drew.  This was NOT reading!  I made up my mind that day that I did not like reading (and never really did again until college).  Who says, “Oh! Oh!” anyway?

13.           My first grade teacher’s name was Mrs. Spencer.  I loved her dearly.  She had such a sweet tone of voice and always treated me like I really was somebody special.  Then she broke her back and we had a substitute from October to May.  When Mrs. Spencer came back in May, I was angry at her.  She let me down by not being there.  I remember thinking that I should have been happy that she was back, but I was just too mad at her.

14.           The summer after first grade, I coerced Kenny Kuhn to walk all of the way (almost three miles) to our county fair with me. He was only five. We spent the entire day at the fair – a five year old and a six year old, without any adult supervision. I made Kenny get in a ride that scared him and he cried. I thought he was a big baby, but I didn’t like it that the coins that had been in my pocket came out and were flying all around the little rocket we were in. When we walked home, I thought I knew a shortcut, but it took way longer than I thought it should. We both started crying because we thought we were lost and would be in trouble. After a rest and a good cry, we kept on, and we finally ended up where we knew the rest of the way home. Kenny was mad at me for a long time for making him go with me. No one ever knew we spent the whole day at the fair all by ourselves.

15.           Miss Lewis was my second grade teacher.  I loved her too, but for a more important reason.  Miss Lewis taught me about trust and forgiveness.  We were supposed to read a book every week and write a book report.  Since I hated to read, I made up my book reports.  I vividly recall walking home from school, running author’s names through my mind and trying to come up with a first and last name that would sound realistic.  Then I would work on a title hoping that Miss Lewis would never know that I really hadn’t read a book.  One day, Miss Lewis read my fake report, and said that she had never heard of this book before.  I told her that my Mom took me to the Public Library, which was the truth that she did, but of course I was trying to deceive Miss Lewis into believing that the book was one I actually read from there.  She looked kind of side-ways at me, and right then, I KNEW I was busted.  I knew she knew that I had lied and I felt so ashamed, but didn’t know how to get out of it.  I hated myself for letting her down.  But instead, Miss Lewis took my hand and led me back to her book table and said, “let me introduce you to a friend of mine,”  She handed me “Curious George,” and showed me some of the pictures.  She then told me that she thought that I would really like to read about him.  Of course, I was delighted in the story, and even happier that I actually read a book and didn’t have to lie on my book report.  Miss Lewis taught me about dignity and the need to save face that day as well.  I love you Miss Lewis!

16.           When we lived in Charlotte, we had a crawl space under our house with an entrance in the back.  Harry loved to crawl in there and just sit by himself.  I wanted to go with him, but it was his special place and he really didn’t want his baby sister there.  So he told me that there were snakes and rats in there, and I cried because I didn’t want him in there with snakes and rats.

17.           My favorite memory of playing with my brother Harry was on a very rainy day.  We couldn’t go outside, and he invented this game with rubber bands and the box of plastic figurines that my grandfather had given me.  These were tiny hard plastic figurines representing many different countries and cultures, and I loved playing with them.  However, from a brother’s perspective – they made a great army.  We divided them up, and lined up our army on our side.  Then from a prone position, we would shoot rubber bands to knock down the opponent’s army.  Of course, Harry always won, but I loved playing this game with him.

18.           A bad memory that I have is when I was about eight, Harry had some of his friends over, and they paid me a quarter to show them my naked body.  I did it and I remember running into the bathtub to hide.  Harry was angry at me for doing what they said, and he made them go home.  I remember being sad for upsetting Harry, and I don’t really think I was ever really ashamed of what I did.  I just wanted people to like me, and thought that if I did what they asked, I would somehow fit in.  I tried to get Harry to not be mad at me anymore, but he didn’t want to ever talk about it again.

19.           We used to play a game called Inky Binky Boo.  It was an indoor Hide and Seek game that my brothers made up.  Harry always had the best hiding places, and I could never find him.  I remember hiding in the same exact place he had used for his turn (it was in his closet), and he was so annoyed with me.  He called me stupid and said he didn’t want to play with me because it wasn’t fun. 

Somehow, writing these memories helps me to make sense of my world. While filled with so many emotions, I know that these are so much a part of what has made me me. Grateful!