The next few posts are going to be connected as I share a piece of my small story.
I was born in a medium size city in central Massachusetts in 1963. My earliest memory is of a day in elementary school when I won an 8 millimeter projector. I remember how excited I was as I began the walk to my house with it under my arms, it was somewhat bulky but the thought of sharing my prize with my mother when I walked in the door was more the enough to squelch any discomfort I felt while carrying it home. A neighborhood girl who was older than me caught up to me while I was walking home and grabbed the projector from my arms and said, ” that’s a little big for you to carry let me take it home for you”. Before I could even respond she was off and too far ahead of me to catch.
By the time I arrived home I was crying, the girl had already dropped the projector off and shared the story with my mother, my mother couldn’t understand why I was crying considering the wonderful prize I had received. I don’t know if I was ever able to explain why I was upset to my mother, in fact if I bring it up to her today she doesn’t even remember the event. I remember later, that girl became an occasional babysitter, and when my parents would leave I would go outside and climb a tree and refuse to come down when she asked me to.
I have very few memories of that early time in my life, in fact most of my memories begin when I was 10 years old, Mom and Dad asked my brother and I to come sit at the table because they wanted to talk to us about something. I remember thinking that it must not be a good thing because it wasn’t even mealtime and they had never asked to speak to us like this before. Mom started off by reminding us how much she and Daddy loved us and…