Childhood memories

The power of memory causes us to recollect certain things as we experience the new, altering the perception of this new thing as we compare it / perceive it according to what we already know. In this way, the power of memory is what causes so many people to be unable to see things from another’s perspective– It takes an open mind to realize that you lack the perspective of others and might not be right about everything or even understand everything.

Hard at work, ya know.

My childhood was a very normal, pleasant one, though I understand that not everyone’s was – I am incredibly blessed to have had such a good childhood. I had great parents who supported everything I did as a child, a brother who is still my best friend, 4 other siblings who I loved dearly, lots of nieces and nephews, and good friends who are still with me. The first memory ever that I can remember is being homeschooled for preschool, laying on my belly and playing a green Berenstain Bears board game that had pop ups in what is now our music room. I don’t know why I remember this, as it is in no way exciting like a trip to Disney world (I still remember every trip to Disney World with my family), but it makes me happy when I picture it.

One of my favorite Disney World memories

I remember heating up pierogies as a child and putting a slice of cheese on top to eat while I watched Barbie as Rapunzel in one of my thousands of princess costumes (Probably my Barbie Swan Lake dress) – To this day, I still act like a princess. My boyfriend started calling me princess all on his own. When my brother’s girlfriend first met me, she said that the first thing she thinks of when she sees me is a princess. When I was at Boot Camp, everyone was making fun of each other calling them characters like Sid the Sloth and Candace from Pihnneas and Ferb; when asked what I reminded them of, three people (at the same time) said “A princess,” “Snow white,” and “Belle.”

I played dress up with Isabelle 24/7

Pictured on the far right... THE swan lake dress

I still get a warm feeling when I imagine my art teacher Mrs. Patt’s garage, making rainbow stick figure bugs and clay flowers. For some reason, the scene from Aristocats where the cats are painting and playing the piano while the mouse eats a cookie gives me “butterflies,” for lack of better words, and I feel immensely sentimental – I have no idea why. My brother, our friend Brandon and I had notebooks, in which we would draw cartoon letters with weapons to fight each other. The faded orange tint on pictures from the early 2000’s is one of my favorite things as I look at the scrap book that I made when I was 5, which spent a good decade in my cardboard “craft box” behind the couch in the den. As I reread this paragraph, I am just now realizing that all of these memories are about creativity – perhaps this is why I am a writer.

Doing crafts with Mrs. Patt

Just a princess and her diary... I've always loved writing

I went to London Bridge Baptist Church, where I remember crying because my dad wanted me to wear my coat, because it was cold – The nerve of some people. I remember crying (I still cry a lot for no reason, for the record) on the rock wall of the playground at Mount Pleasant because I had no friends, and Lexi, who is now one of my best friends, came up and asked to be my friend. I took dancing lessons with her mom, called God’s girls. Playing in the woods of our house on Baum Road was my favorite thing from third-seventh grade, where we would make ziplines and have Halloween parties and make a haunted house in the unfinished attic.

Me, Kerri, and Lexi in second grade

One of my many God's Girls performances

Playing with Isabelle and Brandon in the Baum Road house

Family and friends have always meant the world to me. I remember sitting under the small round table in the den, crying while hidden beneath the long, light pink tablecloth that covered it, because my dad left for work in a hurry and forgot to kiss me goodbye. Every Christmas, my brother and I (we were significantly younger than our other 4 siblings) would sleep in the craft room with our two older sisters and try to stay awake to see Santa, and one year we did “see him” by the fire place. On the very last day of school at Mount Pleasant every year, we would leave straight from the fair to go to Logger’s Dream in Nags Head – Just seeing pictures of that beach house makes me happy still. Every 4th of July, we had court parties where we would sit on the red and white checkered Coke bench swing with my best friend Isabelle and my brother, eating watermelon and waiting for sparklers. These are my happiest and best memories, and they have all stood out for one reason or another and have shaped how I view things.

Me, Isabelle, and Morgan on the Coke bench swing

My sisters in Logger's Dream

“Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.”

– Percy Shelley

Typically, I try to write posts that other people will like and/or relate to, but honestly this one was just for me, because I’m 22 now, and I miss these times when things were simple.