Memory.Lane

I write this after lying awake for too long beside my husband, who’s sleeping like a log after returning home from being out of the country for a week.  He flopped onto the couch and didn’t move until I drug him into bed at 9:30.  Sleep eludes me, however.  As I lay there thinking about life, sex, coupons, Ty sleeping through the night, and a bag of other things, I also began thinking about my childhood.

When I was young, we lived in a single-wide trailer with blue shag carpet on

Possum Holler Drive

in Pumpkintown, South Carolina.  Yes, that’s the truth…I couldn’t make that up.  We were dirt poor, but I didn’t know.  My brother and I always had what we needed and even most of what we wanted.  I remember very little of my childhood, but a few memories from this time still make me smile.  It was the Eighties, and if you’re from the Eighties, you know why I think these memories are so special.  I remember Transformers, He-man and She-ra, My Little Ponies, Thunder Cats, The Gummy Bears (yes, my husband, it was a real TV show)  Popples, Wuzzles, Fraggle Rock…and I could list more.  My mom introduced me to my first scary movie:  Arachnophobia (which is probably what solidified my fear of spiders), which she rented as a prank on my father, who is literally petrified of them.

Speaking of which, I’ll share a quick story.  My Dad worked third shift, so I would sleep in the bed with my Mama (before David was born).  One night, as the street light shown into the room, I woke up from sleeping to something I’ll never ever forget.  There, silhouetted on my bare scrawny legs was a HUGE spider.  I can still remember it crawling over me and the sheer terror I felt as I bolted like lightening out of the bed, screaming to the top of my lungs.  My Mama thought that someone had broken into the house or that it was surely burning to the ground.  Nope, it was arachnophobia at its finest.  We, as in she, captured the spider in a glass jar so that we, as in she, could terrorize my Daddy with it when he came home.  True story.

Continuing on, I remember thinking about how big of a deal it was that my parents let my sister and me stay up extra late to color in our gigantic coloring books, which were strewn all over the living room floor…all over that blue shag carpet.  I think about my mom making Jiffy Pop popcorn (the kind you cook in the little pan thingy) and how we heated our home with Kerosene.  I can still see my Daddy filling it up on cold nights.  Times were different then.  Life moved slower, as it does for children.  I was oblivious to responsibilities and hard times.  My parents carried that burden and we are allowed to be innocent and little.  I now know what those adult responsibilities and sacrifices feel like.  I now know that my Daddy has, on more than one occasion, sold his possessions to make for us a Christmas filled with gifts.  He would be ashamed for me to share that, but I think it’s noble.  I am appreciative of the fact that we didn’t have lots of money.  It makes it all the more special knowing the love that went into making our life work (as cliché as that sounds). 

I’m so proud of my family.  I miss being little…I would go back in a heartbeat to be on the floor of the bedroom I shared with my brother playing with our dinosaurs and transformers.  I would like to be listening to NKOTB (no, I will not write it out, b/c true followers will KNOW).  I miss filling out MAD libs and laughing about something until we got the church giggles.  I would love to take a trip to Weeki Wachee to see the mermaids (and pitch a fit for a little doll mermaid until I got one).  I want to be in Florida with my Cabbage Patch Camera (110).  I would love to make my parents young again.  I’d like to rewind time and appreciate those fleeting moments of my life.  I can’t though, and I’m not sad about that.  I have a wonderful life and I’m so happy.  And in thinking about that time we spent living in the trailer, I find a warm spot…a really great cluster of memories I thought I’d share so that I can use them to create new memories with my family.  Thanks Mom and Dad.  You really are the best.