Remembering

I remember my childhood in snapshots, and I’ve been seeing those pictures in my mind a lot lately. I miss those days. If I could go back and live again in that simpler time, I would. In my memories it’s always spring or summer. Colors were brighter, days were longer, everything I had was given to me. I’m all grown up now and sometimes life feels like a struggle. Is it wrong to wish for a return to childhood? Or does wishing for the impossible fuel my feeling of dissatisfaction with my current reality?

My Snapshots

  • The yard across from our town house had a pretty big kiddie pool. It was big enough that they had a slide for it. I don’t know that I ever got in that pool, but I remember seeing it.
  • Some pink plastic high-heeled shoes made for little  girls to play dress up. I got it for my birthday (maybe the 5th). I think it came with a little pink parasol too.  I loved umbrellas when I  was little. I remember having a clear plastic dome type umbrella with Peanuts characters on it. There are many pictures of me holding an umbrella.
Laura with umbrella

Laura with umbrella

  • I see myself riding my new bike around in circles in our two-car driveway. I think I remember cutting the corner too close and falling.
  • My best friend Carrie and I would go up to the creek in the woods behind our houses and catch salamanders. We felt like real pioneers in those woods.  We would even swing across the creek on a vine that hung over it. I’m surprised it never broke and sent us crashing onto the ground. We always came home safe.
  • I remember going shopping with my mother for a pair of clogs. I guess clogs were all the rage, and it was important that I kept up with my peers.  It seems we drove quite a distance to another part of town. I loved those shoes. They were brown with leather uppers and the rest was wood.
  • It seems that Mom and I once went to a Hardees, or some similar place, on that side of town. We got our hamburgers, got back in the car, and I started crying. I had ordered a plain hamburger. but they gave me one with ketchup and mustard. I was devastated. Mom, who thought I had perhaps been stung by a bee, was quite worried. I’m not sure if we took the hamburger back or not.

I could go on and on recounting these memories. but I won’t. There are more of them than I realized.

For now, I suppose I should focus on the new memories I’m making. I think I’ll try to keep writing about them.

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