Stories from the Past: First Memories

(my dad and I)

First Memories
-Kansas, early 1980s-

The front lawn is covered in a thick layer of snow.  I walk across it and make indentations down to the grass.  The snow hits my knees.  It's cold, but my pants keep me warm.  I turn around and see neatly spaced holes in the snow.  I try to go back to the front door, backward, placing my feet in the holes.  Not so easy...looking backward and trying not to make more holes.

My rain boot won't fit!  I push and push.  Finally, my teacher helps me.  She can't push my shoe into the rain boot either!  She gives up, tells me to take off my shoe and just wear socks and boots.  I stick my stockinged foot in.  It's freezing and liquidy inside.  My toes squish in my socks.  My socks soak up the rain water.  I go home with wet feet.

I am on the floor.  It's dark brown and made of wood.  I peer up over the bed.  How did I fall off?

I can see her butt crack.  I think she's in my class.  I think she's disabled.  She sits in a wheelchair.  What is her name again?  I should be nice to her.  She smiles at me.  I ask her how she's doing.  I don't mention her butt is showing.

We found a bunny!  My dad put it in a big white bucket and has fed it carrots.  Bunnies like carrots.

A warm bundle is shifting in my arms.  I stare down at the baby.  She looks weird.  She has a round face.  She doesn't do anything but sleep.  She's not looking at me.  Her eyes are closed.  She's so heavy!

On the corner, there is a field of dandelions.  They bob back and forth in the wind, looking pretty.  The round, feathery blossoms are so soft and delicate.  These are my favorite flowers.  I wander through them and pick several.  The little feathers fly away when touched.  I blow them.  They float in the wind.  When I get home, my dad tells me they're weeds.  I remember that Dad hates weeds.  I'm a little sad.  But he didn't say that I couldn't pick them.


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