- Books, Literature, and Writing
Winter Memories/Hub Page Challenge
I've found I get a bit emotional when I recall my favorite childhood memory. You might, no doubt, find it trite, and I wouldn't blame you one bit, but one man's trash is another man's treasure. What makes anything special? I think it is that it doesn't come in abundance. Therefore, a bowl of oatmeal is treasured by a child who has no food, and a warm bed is heaven to a homeless man.
I couldn't get you to shed a tear for my childhood. I lacked no material thing. My father was an executive at I.B.M., my mother was a stay at home mom. We were dysfunctional, like most families are, but not to an extreme. My family was not open emotionally though. Stunted is a good word for it. We laughed... we laughed a lot, but we didn't cry. No one ever cried. Is that weird? I was full of emotion, but I had no place to put it, so I stuffed it down. Do you know the one thing I craved? Intimacy. I wanted quality time, I wanted to connect with the people around me. I wanted to understand them and thereby understand myself, so I became very analytical. To this day, I soak up human behavior like a kid slurping the last of his soda.
Our house looked perfect. I love the memory of that home in Danbury, Connecticut at Christmas time. I would come home from school to a roaring fire and a glowing Christmas tree. It was a picture worthy of Currier and Ives. We went to church together, three kids stuffed into the back of an LTD. That was something. We sang in the choir, ate dinners together... what could possibly be missing? I was so much younger than everyone else. Maybe that was it. I was always tagging along. Maybe I just wanted to feel included. Maybe I just wanted to matter. Well around 1980, a young man came along and for the first time, I felt a sense of family.
I was only 12. He wasn't my young man. My sister was 18, he was her young man. His name was Keith and he really liked my sister. She, being stunted, of course, would not return his feelings, nor would she find a suitable mate for ten more years. But this particular Christmas, Keith made his presence known. My whole memory comes down to one day. One day in my entire life is singled out in my mind as precious. And here it is...
We dragged an old sled out of the garage, Keith brought one from his home, and we went to a hill somewhere in Connecticut. I wore my snowsuit, and slid down a hill (way too fast) and trudged up the hill (way too slow) over and over again. When it got dark, we went back to the house and made homemade french bread pizza, something I had never tasted before. Pizza you could make at home! A child's dream come true. Then we all gathered in the family room by the fire and watched Towering Inferno, a terrible 80's miniseries about people stuck in... a towering inferno. The show was not meant for 12 year olds, but I didn't pay much attention to the content. I was included. I was a part of something. There were presents by the tree, hot cocoa, and people, all around me. I couldn't imagine a day to be more wonderful if I had designed it myself.
And that's it. Silly, isn't it? Sledding, pizza and a bad T.V. show, but it meant the world to me. Are there lessons to be learned here? Of course, there are always things we can pass on to our kids and parallels to be drawn, but none of that really matters, 'cause things like this should remain untouchable. Author David McRaney said, "Reality isn't a vacuum where you objectively survey your surroundings. You construct reality from minute to minute with memories and emotions orbiting your sensations and cognition; together they form a collage of consciousness that exists only in your skull." You have your own special memories and they may be even more simplistic than mine, or you may have a story so powerful, it could draw tears! But remember this... no one can take them away from you, they're yours and yours alone, because no one shares the same perspective of the same events. No matter what happens, treasure these memories for as long as you can. They are a part of what makes you who you are, and that makes them priceless!
- Christmas Love Continues to Spread Throughout HP Town
These are true accounts of how very special love is spreading between HubPages' hubbers to hubbers during the 2012 Christmas season!