Memories

For some reason, I have a hard time re-creating memories. When asked to tell you a story about growing up, it takes  a  lot of effort for me to think of something which can create a whole story. It's easier when I have photographs. There are so many times I can remember looking through my mom's old family photo albums and once I see a picture of an event in my life, it suddenly comes back to me and I can recall what happened and how I felt.

When I don't have those photos, it's much harder to remember.

This morning when I woke up I immediately realized I hadn't written today's post today. I got up, took Bandit out, and while making my coffee I pulled out the one photo album I have of some of my childhood memories. My mom had put it together for me for my 8th grade graduation and it chronicles my years at St. Paul.

My St. Paul Album

Funny- a bunch of my jr. high students just graduated 8th grade from their Lutheran elementary school last night. How appropriate!

As I flip through the pages and think back to my childhood, little snippets come back. Memories flood my mind. Not enough for a single story to make a whole blog post, but little bits and pieces I can tell you about.

One of my earliest memories I think was when I was about a year and a half or two. Maybe three. It was winter, but it hadn't snowed much that year. So mom bought different colored spray paint, took us outside, and she painted pictures in the snow for us since we couldn't build snow men. I was bundled up and sat outside It was cold. But I think it was fun too. I can vaguely see my sister painting the snow.

I remember kindergarden and preschool and I loved to play with the dollhouses. Sitting on the rug while our teacher asks us to name words that start with the letter of the day. Many times I had to sit on a chair next to the rug because I wore braces on my legs at the time and I couldn't sit with my legs crossed on the floor. I remember my friend Jimmy crying once, I don't know why, but it was a big deal to me because he never cried. I played with pastor's son a lot too. I saw the school operetta, it was Jonah and I can see the girl who played Jonah sitting in the big whale. I really wanted to be up there too.

I remember in first grade playing with my friend Jenny. There were three Amy's in our class that year. Miss C was the new teacher. Sitting on the rug with Jenny hearing about bring a friend to church day and we decided we would bring each other. ... I don't think we understood the point. I think we painted with glue at some point that year too. Miss C also taught us the Doxology and some patriotic songs. It was my first operetta, and it was called Psalty's Psalters. (Inspired by Psalms...?) We were baseball players. How baseball and Psalms went together I have no idea. I met my friend Kristen in Sunday school that year. She's still one of my closest friends. I keep in touch with Jenny sometimes too.

There are a lot of memories of breaking my legs. I feel like pain is easy to remember, which stinks. It leaves the impression that I had a miserable childhood in and out of hospitals and casts. Which is true, but I wasn't miserable. I didn't have fun breaking my legs, but I had a good childhood. I also had some awesome nurses and physical therapists through the years. The nurses at Children s Memorial Hospital in Chicago on floor 3 always would fight over who got to take care of me. The workers in the playroom always made sure I had fun. One year half of the school made me get well cards and they were hung up like wall paper in my room for months. I would tell my therapists about all of my problems and as we exercised they would give me advice  Dr. T always had a smile on my face and told me how special I was. Mom would tell me to talk to him more because I always got really shy around him. I think it was because I thought he was so great, and I wasn't sure what I would say.

Other memories come flooding back too. A lot of operettas during my St. Paul years, songs, lines to learn, costumes to wear, class parties, cleaning out our desks at the end of each school year, school picnics, Christmas programs, spelling tests (I hated those), multiplication tests every week in 4th grade (I hated those even more), having to read for Accelerated Reader, going to Drury Lane to see their plays and musicals, seeing Pocahontas for one of my summer birthday parties, leading Wednesday morning chapels, new teachers and principals in and out, swimming at Julie and Jen's house every summer and sitting for hours on their swing set, playing at circle park, going to Walcamp in 6th grade, playing with dolls and My Little Ponies with my sister on Saturday mornings...

Maybe if I had more time and was more awake, I could pick out one of these memories and really flesh it out for you. Describe the scene, how I was feeling, what I saw and smelled, who was there, maybe even try to recall what we wore. But all I can give you today are bits and pieces. Snippets of memories.

I guess I remember more than I thought once I got started though. Which is pretty cool.

Today's prompt: A Story From Your Childhood. Dig Deep!

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