I’m going to jump write into into Reflections of Me: my Memoir stories.
July 4, 1931 I was born. My mother told me two things that I will never forget.
1. I went in with a bang, and I came out the same way.
2. My father didn’t have a job and we were evicted from our apartment.
My first 10 tens were filled with love, parents, four grandparents, lots of aunts and uncles and a few cousins.
When I was little, I asked my Grandpa, “How old are you?” When he told me how old he was I said, “Oh Grandpa, you are so old, you should have died a long time ago.” They never let me forget that one.
We had a three room apartment, and I slept on a sofabed in our living room. My mother worked, and it as my job to wake her. That was hard, she never wanted to get up, and I had to leave for school, hoping she had gotten out of bed, or else I was in trouble.
I learned to read at an early age, and I read everything I could get my hands on. The Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, and when I was ten and we moved, I cried at leaving all my books, and my big loving family.
My favorite toys were jacks and jumping rope, and playing with my cousin who was a year older than me. Living in Brooklyn, New York, my cousin lived in a six floor apartment building. Our favorite thing to do when it rained, was ride the elevator up and down, and run through all the halls.Till the super chased us out.
I was Goody Two Shoes, and I never took a dare. But one day, it happened. I climbed a telephone pole and then froze, I couldn’t move, couldn’t get down. I was more scared of my mother than the fire department. My mother scared me into coming down, and then whacked me for being so stupid to do such a thing.
Next installment: Moving to Baltimore, Maryland. Traumatic.
Keep love and kisses in your life.