09.02.09
They say it’s your birthday; It’s my birthday too, yeah … John Lennon
I guess the best place to start writing a life story is at the beginning. I was born August 29, 1953, one month early and exactly eight months from my parent’s wedding day. I don’t remember it, but I’ve been told many times that I shared a room with the refrigerator in my parent’s tiny apartment in Stamford, Connecticut. I also don’t remember stripping all of my clothes off, walking down the street, and being returned by a neighbor at around a year old. I do have very vague memories of my maternal Irish grandmother, Nanny, who died when I was quite young. I also have a very clear memory of a scene from Gone With the Wind that I never actually saw until I was almost an adult. I tried to tell my parents that I had seen it and described, in detail, the scene when Scarlet gets the letter about Ashley dying in the war from an illness. They were flabbergasted! It had not yet been on TV, only in the theaters. I don’t know how I knew about it, but I still remember it vividly. I’ve had many odd experiences like that throughout my life. I have few memories from my childhood, especially the early parts, but the ones I have are very strong. I keep hoping that by writing and thinking about them more, I will remember more.
The first house I remember was on Elmer Street. It was on a double lot. The second lot was a little lower. There were a couple of stone steps leading down to that lower yard. There was a mulberry tree in one of the back corners of that lot. I loved, and still do love mulberries. There was also a wonderful ash tree in the upper lot, next to the house. It had a lower branch that reminded me of a horse because it was level to the ground then grew up at an angle and straightened out again. We would climb up, an easy climb, and bounce on it. It was way more fun than the bouncy horse on springs we had. As I got older, I was able to climb way up into the branches. I didn’t really like going out to play but would bring a pile of books up into the tree with me. It was safe and quiet up there. I liked being left alone.
A few memories from that yard are seeing dragonflies and being told by older kids that they were called “darning needles” and would sew your mouth shut if you let them get too close. I was terrified of them for many years and was sure to pass that information on to my younger brother. Much later on, I was told by a Japanese friend of mine that in Japan they believe if a dragonfly lands on you, it is an old soul coming back to visit. I like that much better.
Another memory I have is of my dad playing golf in the back yard. He couldn’t afford to go golfing. He was supporting a growing family on a newspaper reporter’s low income. My mom worked part-time nights as a nurse also, but they were struggling. So, my dad saved juice cans and sunk them into the ground to make his own mini golf course. The problem was, he kept losing the balls in the back. To help with this, he had me stationed in front of a big bush halfway across the yard. My job was to watch where the balls landed. “Keep your eye on the ball,” he kept repeating. Even then, I had a good work ethic and always tried to do my best. I took my job very seriously. He hit the ball. “I see it, Dad. It’s coming this way.” “Okay, keep your eye on the ball,” my dad repeated. “Okay Dad, it’s coming. I see it.” The next thing I remember was lying on the ground in a lot of pain with my dad leaning over me crying and my mom very upset and kind of yelling at my dad. A few hours later I came home from the Emergency room with three stitches just under my left eye. He never said to duck if it got too close. I’m sure neither of us ever imagined it would actually hit me in the eye. I sure kept my eye on the ball, though.
The last memory I will share with you about that yard was of swimming in our little wading pool on a very hot summer day. Dad had the idea to put the end of the slide into the pool so we could slide right into the water. He had me pour water down first since it had been sitting in the sun. I bounced my way all the down that slide and couldn’t sit down for days afterward because of the big blisters on my behind. My poor dad made lots of those mistakes, as all young parents do. They still chuckle about those events today. I’ve realized over the years that, though I used to wonder what was so funny about such serious injuries, we all laugh about things that are hard to handle. It just makes them easier somehow.