I once sat down to write my memoir. The initial scene was set and I had a perfect picture in my mind of me as a six year old, sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for the dew to dry. Once I started to introduce others into my story, I got lost. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of writing about other people.
It is easy to find quotes from writers that support me writing my memories as I remember them regardless of others. They are my memories after all.
Memories are funny little creatures. They are skewed based on our personal perspective. When I went to spend a week in the mountains with my sisters, this became evident. The first few days we were in a huff with each other. We felt like our lives and our memories were not being validated. It was as if the three of us lived totally different lives in totally different families. All three of us remembered things differently. How could that be?
Age is one factor, placement in the family another. Add personality traits and temperament to parents at very different stages of their lives and you soon realize – it was very different for all of us.
I was the baby of the family. The general consensus was I was pampered, given more freedom, and therefore loved more. What I felt I wanted them to know was that I felt alone much of my childhood. I was the pain-in-the-butt tag along. “Watch your sister.” “Take her with you.” “You can’t go. Someone needs to stay with your sister.” As soon as they could spread their wings and fly, they did. Who could blame them? Many of my early memories are of me playing by myself. My later memories are of me, alone with my parents.
I left home right out of high school to join the Air Force. I was ill-prepared. The transition was challenging and difficult, but so necessary.
Will I write my memoir someday? I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. I may publish a book of stories about my life, but that seems easier somehow.
There is a lot left unwritten – places I hope to go, things I hope to accomplish. We welcome a seventh grandchild this year and I know there are many adventures yet to come as he grows up.
Maybe I better hustle a little. Anytime I have a quandry in life, there is usually an episode of The Andy Griffith Show that will set me right. Today I will take a cue from Aunt Bee.
Written for Tranquil Thursday.