|image courtesy phtotobucket.com|
Ages three and four were when we lived in Exeter, California, prior to our move to Oakland. I remember Mother washing clothes in an old wash tub in the yard and hanging them out to dry on a line. She used one of those old fashioned wash rub boards to get out the spots and make sure everything was clean.
The outhouse was vivid in my memory, but I was very tiny, and a small potty chair graced the back porch just for me.
I had just turned three, and I remember banging on the bedroom door, and demanding to see my mother when my sister was born. My Aunt Edna told me that I could not see her because my mother was sick. Refusing to be denied, I screamed and yelled, “I want my Mama,” until my aunt finally allowed me a short visit. Mother smiled at me, and reached out to give me a gentle hug, and then she asked me to please obey my aunt, so I did.
Even though my mother had two other babies, she found time to rock me, and sing to me for my nap. Although I was three years old, and closed my eyes, I remember thinking, “I will pretend that I am asleep and trick mama.” Mother thought I was asleep so she quietly carried me to my bed, except by the time she laid me down I was out like a light.
The Scriptures tell us that "foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child." That certainly did apply to me at a very young age!!
Having just celebrated my fifth birthday, I watched as Mother Packed up an ironing board and two boxs of kettles and dishes. Then she took me with her to the train station to ship the boxes and ironing board off to Oakland where I would eventually grow up and attend school.
We crowded into Uncle Cliff's car for the long ride to our new city. It seemed a long time, but perhaps it was only a few days, that I, my brother Allen, and my sister Zelma slept on the floor at Uncle Cliff and Aunt Beulah’s home while our parents searched out a rental house.
That year living in the rent house cemented age five in my memory. The move after that was to a home purchased by my parents and it held all my childhood memories until I married, and left home at age 18.
At the urging of our foster daughter Nancy, for the past two years, I have been documenting memories from my childhood, remembrances from my children growing up, and other memories as the stories are posted to my blog.
Nancy and a couple of other friends insist that it is now time to get those stories into a book, so we reached out for the next best step.
Moving my earliest stories to a Word document folder separated them from my other posts, and gave me many personal childhood stories.
That is probably enough for perhaps another book, and I haven’t even thought of the stories of our own children as yet. That came later and again too many so there are now three books.
WOW – can I do this??
Time marches, on and today is the day to rescue the old memories, and not to allow them to fade into the distance.
Begin now to write your memoirs. Go ahead and post them.