Story of My Life

I began making a new board board book today. It is a story about my life. I was born long before mothers began scrapbooking. My mother has tons of pictures of my oldest sister. By the time it got to me, there are not so many. This is normal. So I thought I would just make a little book of memories, those things that stand out in my mind.

I did not understand myself so very much when I was younger. As I have grown older, I have had many reconciliations with aspects of myself. Children pay for the sins (mistakes) of their parents. There is no way around it. It comes to us all. The playing field is level that way. No parent ever began parenthood with experience. It is all trial and error. Live and learn.

When I was born and up until I was 5 years old, I had an extremely happy life. Everyday was spent playing, dreaming, more playing, more dreaming and spending time with my three beautiful, older sisters. There was never a shortage of playmates in those days because my sisters and myself were all pretty much playing age. My dad provided us a good life. My mother was a stay at home mom. She cooked three meals a day. She ironed. She cleaned. She sewed our dresses. She took cookies to school for my sister's homerooms. She was the perfect mom.

We went to the First Methodist Church every Sunday that my grandmother was baptized in the year 1900. We came from a long line of Methodists on both sides of my family. Each Sunday morning, all of us little girls would line our shoes up beside my dad's shoes and he would go down the row polishing them all. I always wore a hat and gloves. Two of my sisters always wore big crinoline slips underneath their dresses. One Sunday at church, my sister kept complaining that her slip was scratching her so my mom took it off of her and laid it in the pew beside us. In awhile, I looked around and saw my sister sitting there with her pink crinoline slip on her head like an Indian headress. It was beautiful! I admired it so very much and wished I had a slip to put on my head. Shortly, my mom spotted it and quickly tore it off of her head and laid it back down in the pew. Why, I wondered? It certainly could not have been because it was not a beautiful thing!

Our house was in town and had a wonderful screened in porch that was perfect for playing. My mom has mentioned that screened in porch so many times throughout my life as being a mother's dream for playing kids. We could play in it regardless of the weather. It was shady and cool when it was hot. It was dry when it was raining. We spent hours and hours out on the porch. We would cry at night when mom would tell us we had to come in to go to bed.

As I said, in this phase of my life, everything was good and beautiful. Little did I know then but a cold wind was building that would bring change to my life forever. Nothing would ever be the same. Innocence would be lost. Sadness would cast a long shadow over my life and eventually cross the doorstep. But I would always keep a brave face and keep on plodding as children seemingly do so easily.

I have included a picture of our house then along with a picture of the type of car we had, a 1958 Ford Fairlane. I can so remember driving around with mom in that car while standing up in the front seat. Times have changed. Summer time was the best! Endless summer days of playing time. I have always had a fascination with the moon. On the night I was born, a cold autumn Friday night, there was just a sliver of a waning moon. Plus, did I mention that my sisters and myself all had a cat a piece! My cat's name was Bobby Jack. He was my first love! If a magic fairy appeared suddenly to say that I could return for an hour in time back to the happiest place in my memories, it would be to here. Back to mom, dad, all of my sisters, and little Bobby Jack.