Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Memories, 4/1

 No April Fool's jokes here!

Today starts April Love 2015 at Susannah Conway's Blog.
There is a daily photo challenge for every day of April, as well as daily inspirational emails from lots of creative people about self-love. Today's photo prompt: My Morning View

Regular readers of this blog see quite a few photos from my front steps... so I've chosen a shot a little more zoomed in.

Wednesdays are also my Memory Days...
About my "Memory" posts: I have always had a problem with memories. The problem being that I don't have many. Even as short a time ago as when my kids were little, I don't have many memories, snapshots here and there at the most, none of my memories run like video clips. I have no idea why my mind works that way, presumably there is no trauma in my childhood blocking things out, or head injury to have caused a lack of long term memory. They just aren't there. So I decided that maybe recording what I do remember might just bring up more of what I've forgotten, and maybe - someday - my children might just want to read these things. If not, that's ok too - it's more for my own knowledge than anything. I don't know if my childhood memories will make good reading for anyone else, but....

When I was three, maybe four years old, my mother had divorced my dad, and my grandparents moved from the farm to town. The house they bought was new, but it was built on top of an existing basement house, which provided an apartment for my mom and I to live in.
 I remember a couple things from that time. My mom drove a bright red 1965 mustang. I have two "snapshot" memories from that car. One is her key chain, pink and red and gold, hanging from the ignition. I still had that key chain up until it was lost in the tornado. The other memory is laying curled up in the passenger seat at night, staring at the little horse lit up on the dash when she had her brights on.
Another memory from that time is how my mornings started. My mom worked as a CNA at the time, and went to work before I woke up. There were two doors into my room, one opened into the hall, the other into the utility room where the back stairs were. Those back stairs led right up to my Grandma's kitchen. In the mornings when I'd wake up, the sun would be pouring in the abnormally large windows of the basement. My room was in the northeast corner, and very bright in the mornings. I wouldn't get out of bed immediately, instead I'd holler, "Grandma!" and she'd be in her kitchen, waiting, and tell me to come on up. Then I'd jump out of bed and run up the stairs, still wearing my pajamas, to have breakfast sitting in the bright red chairs at her kitchen table. (her table was almost identical to THIS ONE, but in pristine condition) There was an east window in her kitchen, too, that the light poured in through, and there were always the sounds of mourning doves. My grandma and I both loved the mourning doves, and I think of her still every morning when I hear them now.


  1. I love hearing about peoples memories...I hope I never get Alzheimer's ...and lose MY precious memories.
    I also love hearing about your sweet Grandma and I can almost see you in that sunny kitchen with her....ahhh, reliving memories is almost as good as being there.

    1. I love hearing people's memories, too... these memories I'm writing out (and also planning on printing out) won't be lost, no matter what happens :)
      I wish I'd written down my grandma's memories, especially loved the ones about her teaching career in the one room school houses.


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