memory | memory
Aug.03.2010
My earliest memory is a fish story, and as it is part of my next memoir, I’ll just hint at it here:
When Daddy went off to the war in Ohio and Mommy took over his job at the post office, my grandma drew the short straw. Left at home with a three-year-old to entertain, she had to be resourceful....
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Jul.29.2010
Daddy lifts me up and plops me down on top of the counter in the neighborhood bar. The dark marble feels cold on the back of my legs and my feet dangle over the edge.
The room is smoky and filled mostly with men's faces. The bartender leans in and pinches my cheek. I look at Daddy for re-...
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Jul.29.2010
I’ve heard it said that babies have memories of the time in the womb, or the moment of birth. I guess I have a deficient memory gene, because as hard as I try, I don’t recall, and as the first person in my family to be born in a hospital, it would be nice if I could. I also don’t recall learning...
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Jul.28.2010
The world around me was huge. The bars that held me in were large enough that I couldn’t get my head through. My hands would grab at the silent air, feeling for things unseen to the outside world. I cried for a bottle that awaited me from another world. My diaper was wet and I needed someone to...
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Jul.28.2010
My earliest memory is an early fall afternoon in late 1984, in a green-and-white trimmed, 3-story home where I lived with my younger sister, two dogs, one pony, and my parents shortly before their divorce when I turned 4. I'm there with my sister, who's still learning to walk on her own. We're...
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Jul.28.2010
My earliest memory is of something we did often during WWII as we lived in Surrey county, SW of London, England: in the middle of the night Mummy shines a torch on my bed & tells me to get up. The air raid sirens are howling. I'm clutching our little black dog. Mummy puts my slippers on, wraps...
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Jul.28.2010
In the summer of 1961, 2 or 3 months shy of my second birthday, I was with my family on vacation on Cape Cod. I remember beginning to climb a dune with my mom and two older sisters. My dad must have stayed behind on the beach with my baby sister. The sand was warm and bunches of grass grew randomly...
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Jul.28.2010
It was unseasonably hot.
That must have been the reason my grandmother walked down the aging basement stairs and out of the open garage door and traveled a block to the corner store, holding my three-year-old hand in hers. The giddy excitement of the moment still stays with me; the black night...
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Jul.28.2010
"God gave us memories so we might have roses in December." - James Matthew Barrie
RedRoom.com is a web site for writers and bloggers and they often issue challenges to bloggers to blog on a certain subject. Usually I have too many blog ideas lined up to participate but today's challenge,...
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Jul.28.2010
It is the musty odor of the basement that I remember the most.
As my mother hung newly laundered clothes on the sagging rope strung between the chimney and the outside wall, I pretended that the dimly lit cellar of our three story tenement-house was the wild west. It was a perfect opportunity to...
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