“Memories are like a garden. Regularly tend the pleasant blossoms and remove the invasive weeds.”

I woke up to the sun and a blue sky, but I knew it was just the sun with light, no warmth. The temperature is 33˚. My feet crunched on the grass when I went to get the papers. The dusting from yesterday’s snow has frozen. Nothing will melt. The snow covers the ice. I’m careful.

I don’t remember much about being really little. I have only fleeting pictures in my memories. I remember the nursery school where I lasted a single day. It was a brick building covered in ivy and was across the street from our apartment building. My mother told me I cried so much the second day she never sent me again. That part I don’t remember. I remember the backyard. It was filled with clothes lines stretched from metal poles. They were in boxes outlined by chain link fences, and each apartment building had its own lines in its own box. I remember how the lines were surrounded by the brick buildings filled with apartments. The front of my building had steps which were in a small round row.

When I was five, we moved from the city to the town where I would grow up. I don’t remember moving, but I do remember exploring and being found by the police who said I was lost. I didn’t notice. My sister lives on the same street only a block away from where I was found. Coincidence is funny. I have no recollection of my first day of school, but I remember being terrified by Sister Redempta. Mrs. Kerrigan was my second grade teacher, and she was old. I remember flowered dresses and gray hair and seeing her walk across the street from the church to the house where she lived. Her apartment was on the second floor. I loved my nun in the third grade, Sister Eileen Marie, and I remember our classroom was in the cellar of the rectory. I remember tables and chairs instead of desks, and I know I sat on the outside of a table toward the back of the room. I was eight that year. Going to school in the cellar was a sort of adventure.

From then on, my memories are more vivid, but they are fragmented as my memory drawers are nearly full. I cram the most recent memories way in the back of the drawer almost in a pile. I figure it is a good thing when I have sloth days as there is nothing memorable, nothing to keep in mind except warmth, comfort and a good book.

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6 Comments on ““Memories are like a garden. Regularly tend the pleasant blossoms and remove the invasive weeds.””

  1. olof1 Says:

    My first memory is from when I was four years old. It was the first day I saw my coming best friend. She wore a blue dress, white shirt and had a red balloon πŸ™‚ From that moment on we were best friends πŸ™‚

    I also have vague memories of my two half siblings grandmother (on their fathers side). She was from Norway and Same, the native people here in Scandinavia. She lived in the same apartment building as we did so she was sort of my grandmother too. I do remember my first school bag too πŸ™‚ It was green and looked like a briefcase but could also be worn like a ruck sack πŸ™‚

    Have a great day!

    Christer.

    • katry Says:

      Christer,
      That is a great memory even down to the clothes she was wearing.

      Her kindness was probably what etched her in your memories, I remember a few book bags, but I don’t remember which years I carried them.

      It funny what memories we make.

      Have a great evening!

  2. Bob Says:

    Your choices of music today are fantastic and I enjoyed going down memory lane with each song. My earliest memories are when I was three and my mother and father went to the hospital to have my sister. My Aunt came to stay with me and we played a game that had suction cup darts that we threw to a metal target. Another, that may have been earlier was watching our 10inch B&W TV set. I remember watching the test pattern during the day while waiting fir the Howdy Dowdy show at 5:00 PM.

    We missed the snow and sleet last night but this morning it was 18 degrees when I drove to work.

    • katry Says:

      Bob,
      Thanks, I’m glad you liked the music. It always takes me a while to find just the right songs.

      I remember the Indian on the set before programs started. I don’t remember my middle sister being born, but I do remember my youngest sister as there was a hurricane, and she was in the hospital because she needed to gain weight before going home.

      We were actually warmer than you, an uncommon event. It got as high as 36˚ today. With no wind, it felt warm.

      • Bob Says:

        We never got above freezing. However, we will be in the 60s by Friday. For some reason I r ember one of the first daytime TV shows was the detonation of a hydrogen bomb on some atoll in the Pacific Ocean. Later I remember the soap opera “Love of Life”.

      • katry Says:

        Bob,
        I think you remember the bomb on Bikini. It was used so often that the islanders can never return to it.

        I think we’ll be in the 30’s all week, but I don’t know about the weekend.


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