I’m having a difficult time projecting myself back to my childhood to specific measures and perhaps my dreams. Maybe I’ll connect somehow. Could my dreams and aspirations have been so vague that they existed as mist? Do I need to dig out the bad (and the good)?
Don’t all kids have dreams and aspirations of ‘what they want to be when they grow up?’ I thought something must be wrong with me because I don’t remember. Could it be that I had no dreams or aspirations? I learned that there’s nothing wrong with me or my childhood memories (or seeming lack of) when I discovered an article from aeon online magazine (it’s free) this past summer — “The Great Forgetting” by Kristin Ohlson (July 30, 2014). I’m not the only one who doesn’t remember much from their childhood. I’m not alone.
I’ve always loved books and reading and wondered if I ever had aspirations to become a writer when I grew up. I don’t remember. But I do remember how I found my refuge from the world in books and my imagination. When I discovered reading and got my own library card, new worlds opened to me. I could retreat into my books and learn, discover, imagine and dream without interference, a love affair that was destined to endure for the rest of my life.
I cannot imagine my life without books. Who planted those seeds? Who encouraged me? It was probably my grandmother. I don’t remember that either but I’ll always be grateful. Now that I think on this, I lived in my imagination and like to think I still do — as a reader and a writer. Maybe I was repressed back then (watch for an article on the subject). Maybe I was shy, but imagination and creativity are reborn and very much alive.
Note: This piece was stimulated by handwritten notes from May 6, 2010. Some of the text is verbatim, some revised and more added. The photo was taken with my maternal grandmother, the most wonderful person who ever touched my life, in May, 1949 when I was four years old. Click the photo to enlarge.
That little boy grin is unmistakable. She baked fabulous cookies?
Do not get too hung up on not remembering. I remember enough to count for you and me both. 😉
Hi Red,
My grandmom baked the most fabulous deep dish apple and peach pies. I was her chief tester. Hah!
I’m not hung up at all now. Childhood was what it was and what I do remember is good enough. Best to live in the present moment.
Some things are an absolute blank in my childhood while others are as clear as if they happened yesterday–almost yesterday. 🙂
Yeah, our memories are selective and there are physiological reasons why childhood memories either don’t stick or fade. The article I referenced is a good one that explains well.
I’m looking forward to more stories from your childhood, John.
Several years ago, in reaction to my own fading memory, I began writing down all of my vague and often fractured childhood recollections. My Dad was in the Air Force and I went to school in a different state every year, so it was a little easier to separate what little I could recall into separate narratives by grade. I found that as I got started working to remember, the memories began to come back.
By the way, you were pretty dang tall for a 4-year-old!
Thanks Steve,
Keep me posted on your progress. And I was 4 1/2 at the time. Maybe that half year made a difference? LOL
We were a family of readers and I took refuge in reading then and today. I remember wanting to be an oceanographer after visiting an aquarium….
You are a very lucky guy to have such a lovely genuine photo of your Grandmother.
It is a treasure I wish I had more of.
Reading your ebook re Lyx now.
Thank you.
Yes, Grandmom was the love of my life. Thanks for the comment.