In May of 1952 I was six months old. Able to sit up by myself and everything.
Ah.. I probably sat up momentarily for this photo and then fell over. My Mother wrote on this photo. Connie Joy May 1952.
It was about this time that we moved to the farm where I would grow up. I don’t remember living anywhere else..however I know that my Mother and I lived with my Maternal Grandparents while my Dad was in Korea, I just don’t remember that part.
I have some memories before I entered school. Banty roosters being mean and chasing me. Dogs..and kittens. Coffee poured into a saucer to cool so I could drink it. Butter. A baby calf sucking on my fingers. A fawn with spots in a fence.
Sometimes smells ..fresh baked bread, rain and a wet dog stir up memories that I cannot quite remember. Some things remain just on the outskirts of my memory. Fleeting feelings just for a moment..something I should remember but cannot.
I suppose as I get older more memories will be forgotten. More experiences will be unrememberable..is that a word? Well if it isn’t it should be.
Now a days I remember some “stuff” in the middle of the night when I wake up. What a terrible time to remember “crap”…then I wonder will I remember in the morning? Unless I get up and write a note to myself…my sleep/waking cycles are filled with reminding myself to remember in the morning…and that is exhausting. I am certain that after being asleep a few hours my brain finally clears out and remembers the important stuff I forgot during the day…and then because my brain is all rested up… it has to keep reminding me so I won’t forget again. It is a vicious cycle:)