What I remember of my childhood, before I was 11.
What I remember? Small fragments of the years before we moved to Rockford from Cherry Valley. Cherry Valley sounds like a beautiful small town, right? It is. A small town with only one school, a library, a tiny park, a large park on the river, a baseball field behind a small church, and a tiny... I mean TINY log cabin at the edge of the main exit of the town. Gorgeous lilac trees, whispy willow trees, shallow parts of the river and shell covered sand barges.But, what I remember of my childhood, is a blur. Much of what I know about my childhood, I know from photographs, like the one of me as a baby sitting on the porch "drinking" the last drop of beer out of an empty can. Or from stories I have been told by others in my family. My own personal memories, well there just aren't many. Years of my childhood wiped, erased, deleted, gone.
What DO I remember?
I remember being a small girl, vaguely. Running around in the fields and tromping in the woods surrounding my home.
I remember a bird pooping in my hair, the year it flooded and we took the canoe out in the back yard and paddled around our corn stalks that were drowned except for about a foot at the top.
I remember ice skating on the mill pond behind our house, and the hot cocoa we received when we came in from the cold.
I remember someone telling me to put my feet in a fresh "cow pie", how warm it felt, then realizing it was cow shit... While all the grownups laughed so hard I thought they might fall over.
I remember how my mother babysat the kid across the street. How she would make us popcorn and put it in a huge bowl to snack on while we watched a movie... Seeing him pick his nose and then put the booger finger in the popcorn bowl. Feeling disgusted, and telling on him, just to get yelled at by my mother.
I remember being left outside with my younger sister (2 years younger) and my younger brother (5 years younger) to go where ever we wanted with no one but me to supervise them. Once, we went into the woods and found a huge dead owl. Our mother LOVED owls, so we brought it home, made my brother carry it. He was about about 4.
I remember being outside, ALL the time. Allowed to go anywhere, anytime, when I was too young to find my way home... My parents installed a large bell on the porch... A guiding bell, to find my way home, the dinner bell... Or time to come inside because it was getting dark.
I remember going to school where most of the kids picked on me relentlessly. We lived in an area of upper middle class and wealthy residents. We were a few of the poorest to attend the school. We were not poor, but we at times struggled. My clothing came from K Mart or garage sales, theirs came from the mall. We never went to the mall to shop for clothing.
I remember having one friend at that school. ONE. Thank you Susan.
I remember the bus driver asking me to be the one to stop and make sure all of the kids were at the bus stop on time. I lived in the last house down a narrow gravel road, too small for a bus to travel down. I remember doing what the bus driver asked me to do and the kids getting mad at me, picking on me and nearly beating me up... I came home crying and my mother scolded me, "What did you do to deserve it!?!"
I remember learning in school about "warm fuzzy" feelings like big hugs, and sweet kisses. And about "cold prickly" feelings, anything that you were not comfortable with.
I remember going to the river behind the pond and being pulled down the shallow side of the river in a red inflatable raft, and a bull charging into the water from the deep side. The fear I felt...
I remember going to school in pants too small for me, uncomfortably so. Because I was wearing a longer shirt, I unbuttoned the pants when I was sitting... Then had to get up and dance without time to refasten them. They nearly fell off.
I remember my parents fighting, insanely, frequently. Food being SPAT across the table, dishes broken when they were thrown on the floor, or at my mothers face... A cast iron frying pan being held into the air by my mother... All while I gathered my younger sister and brother to the stairway in case we needed to escape... Right next to the phone that I picked up as I screamed "STOP OR I AM CALLING THE POLICE!" (I didn't even know the phone number)
I remember kids making fun of me, saying I was ugly... I smelled bad, and was poor.
I remember how it felt to be picked LAST in gym class for teams, every day, all year, every year.
I remember swinging on vines over the creek when it was full, like Tarzan and Jane.
I remember looking out my bedroom window and watching movies on the screen of the drive thru a mile or so away. It was tiny, but, I could see it.
I remember my father coming home from work and yelling at us to stay out of in front of the TV, M*A*S*H was on!
I remember a family vacation, where I met a boy whose parents owned the resort we were staying at... He hugged me, sang to me, and spent a lot of time with me. He even talked his parents into giving us a free weekend so we could spend a little more time together. And the girl I met there, Janelle... I was only like 8 or 9 at the time. It felt great!
I remember going to church with my grandmothers on both sides. One put me in Sunday school when I went with her... The other brought me into the pews to hear the "Creacher" and it scared the hell out of me. I am an Atheist.
I remember being a baby, and seeing my Dad cry. I never knew why, but my mother wasn't there.
You know, that is about all I really remember from my childhood. Except for one other thing...
Me sleeping in my bed, on my back... My right leg stretched out and my left leg bent with my foot under my right knee. My arms bent at the elbows, with my hands near my head. I felt someone watching me... Then touching my panties...
I had been a bed wetter, so I assumed that this is why? To see if I needed a bath and a bedding change?
This happened several nights. Then, one night... The hand went into my panties... My hand lifted and put on something that felt like nothing I had ever felt in my hand before... This was a "cold prickly".
I could not take that! I was told to tell an adult if I felt a cold prickly!
I waited to hear him start snoring, then I went downstairs and told my mother... She flew up the stairs and started screaming at him... Asking him if he touched me. I never heard him say a word. I heard her hit him. He took it.
I remember sitting there on the couch, listening to the screaming and crying. I remember my mother telling him to go down stair and apologize, and that it better never happen again. I remember him coming down in his underwear, sitting next to me, saying he was sorry... I remember being grossed out and so angry! Then, my mother made him hug me... I knew at that point, I could never trust my parents. Never ever again.
I was in second grade, Ms. S's class.
