Wednesday, November 18, 2009

29 Weeks

I've been thinking a lot about my childhood the past few weeks. I guess that kind of comes with the territory. According to my doctor, in another 5 weeks I'll be considered "full term" in, they won't try to stop labor should I happen to go into it. Freaky.

A lot of people have really specific memories from their childhood. Comedians, for instance. And my mom and uncles. (Which amounts to the same thing as comedians.) They can remember in vivid detail not just the event that occured, but also who else was involved, who said what to who, and how the whole thing played out.

I don't have that. My childhood memories are vague recollections that might be memories, and they might have been dreams. It all seems really foggy to me.

For instance...I have the feeling I wore saddle shoes a lot as a kid. I have no proof of this, because my parents didn't often photograph my feet, but it's an impression that I have. Were saddle shoes for small children a thing in the mid-1980's? Or did I watch too many episodes of Happy Days? I also seem to recall Santa visiting my house and me putting on regular clothes over the top of my pajamas to go meet him. I'm pretty sure this happened. On the other hand...the memory of my aunt buying me ice skates instead of tennis shoes? I think I made it up.

Did someone really set a hand towel on fire taking a dish out of the oven? Did my dad really run over my tricyle in the driveway and then bring it in the house, lay on the floor next to its poor mangled body, laughing hysterically? Did we really have mice at some point? Did I bite down on a glass cup and break it? I don't know. It's all fuzzy.

Even as an older kid - I have memories of how a yearly tradition would make me feel, but no real specific recollections. No particular Halloween or Christmas stands out in my mind. They all kind of melt together. I remember for a few years running we had a pool. I remember sharing a room with my baby brother, who screamed a lot, until my pink room was finished. I remember my brother generally being someone I didn't care to associate with until he was about 10. But I don't remember any specific day, or event, or who said what to whom about what. I remember sitting on the porch to watch thunderstorms...after we got a new porch courtesy of a thunderstorm. But I don't remember the thunderstorm that took out the old front porch. I don't specifically remember anything that happened when my Aunt lived with us...just a pink afghan and the phone being tied up a lot. Or when my Uncle lived in that room. All I remember is the way his 20 million colognes smelled. (Horrible.)

I wonder which one is more normal...the blurry childhood or the crystal clear one?

1 comment:

  1. My childhood was kind of a patchwork of blurry memories. Totally.