Age 1: I only weigh five and a half pounds at birth. Considering that I would reach the height of 5 ft 10 inches by my 13th birthday, that's a lot of growing to do.
Age 2: My first memory: being in my crib, white bars, trying to crawl over and out. Never made it.
Age 3: The ice cream truck comes down the road every day at 2 pm. There's music in the air as it slowly drives down the street. I have a nickel in my little hand and make a run to the truck with my brothers. I always choose vanilla with orange sherbert on a stick. I continue to buy the same ice cream for the next ten years.
Age 4: I have a solo in a ballet recital. I'm supposed to be a girl in a painting that comes alive. Just as I'm rounding the corner on some sort of twirl my biggest fear comes true; I fall down. I'm able to gracefully pick myself up and I get a mini standing ovation.
Age 5: Kindergarten. We're sitting around in a circle and the teacher has put cream and sugar in jar. We pass it around and each have to shake it so that we can make sweet butter. I can still taste it on my tongue to this day.
Age 6: My mother does volunteer work at the school thrift store. Today the car is broken so she decides that the two of us can walk there. It's a sunny day and we walk from our house to downtown Tiburon, a three mile hike.
Age 7: We're talking about geography in class. Normally I never say a word but today I pipe up and tell this elaborate story about how in India the cows are sacred and nobody eats them like we do. Sister Cecilia knows what I'm talking about and is enthusiastic about my having this knowledge. All my other classmates give me blank stares.
Age 8: I go with my older brother David and my younger brother Billy along with two other friends from the neighborhood in Mill Valley, into San Francisco. The bus costs ten cents. We go to the Emporium to see Santa Claus. David has the most money, fourteen dollars. We all buy each other Christmas presents and pretend the other isn't really looking.
Age 9: I'm in bed with my mother, I go there almost every morning to snuggle. I tell my Mom I'm going to give her a "Hollywood Kiss". It's quite long and with our lips smooshed together. After I'm done she tells me very sweetly that maybe I'm too big to give her the HK. I'm absolutely crushed...
Age 10: The babysitter arrives at our house as my Mom is leaving to go away for the weekend up to Lake Tahoe. I'm so excited at having the babysitter there and I want to show her my secret trick! I can stop the apartment elevator between floors...but then we really did get stuck and it takes us a minute to get it moving again. We go back into the house and my Mom has already left for her trip. I think she knew I would cry and so she thought she'd take a quick exit. I never saw her again. I never did get to say goodbye.
4 comments:
Awww, what a poignant ending! You have a great memory, though!
what a wonderful post.
reading this brought back my own memories.
Would you mind if I used your idea on my own blog?
Going to send you an email today....
Loved reading the bits and pieces you remember from your childhood...thank you!
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