My Very First and Lasting Memory
My father had been previously married, and had a son, who, because my dad was in the service, was being raised by our grandmother in OK.
He was four years older than me, which made my first memory at the age of two. I recall my mom asking me if I would like a brother, and apparently I said yes :)
The time came for my brother to come home and I remember going to pick him up. He came to us on a bus (I think). It was winter, I was dressed in my snowsuit, and when he got off the bus, he walked to the car. He was on crutches at the time. I was so excited I barely let him get settled in the back seat and I was climbing all over him giving him big hugs. My mom said I had to be careful not to hurt his leg.
We grew up in the 50s/60s. The time came when my brother joined the service. I was a freshman in high school, and remember being very upset that he was going away. I wrote to him and sent him my homemade chocolate chip cookies. These are very pleasant memories :)
