Monday, October 10, 2011

8/30 - My earliest memories...

Day 08: My earliest Memory

Most of my most earliest memories are of my father. A few of them are at my families old house. One I remember is that I was out in the backyard playing in my sandbox. It was a nice warm sunny day. I remember looking up towards the left back side of the house where my parents were talking. My dad was making me what we called my mouse house (a playhouse). It wasn't really that big but it was awesome and I loved it. I just remember that he was pointed at the wall probably telling mom what he was going to do next. There wasn't a roof on it yet and I am not sure if there were windows or if all of the walls were up yet.

Funnily enough I don't remember actually playing in that house until we had moved to the farm, but that couldn't have been too long after that. We moved out to the farm when I was about 3 or 4. The floor was wood and had a yellow carpet on it. The walls were some sort of chipboard like sheets and it was painted white. It had these old windows that actually opened and closed. The roof was yellow plastic sheet with ripples and it was on an angle so the water wouldn't pool on top. It even had a door that Dad made especially for it. I remember as the years went by I would repaint it white with mom to make it look fresh again.

Another memory from the old house took place in our front room. Dad was sitting on the couch and I was either sitting beside him or standing in front of the couch. I remember that I had a band-aid on my arm and was trying to get it off. But it hurt every time I tried to. Dad told me the best way to do that was to just rip it off really fast because that way it only hurt for a moment. I went to try this but of course it hurt a lot when I started. I obviously was going way too slow because I was afraid of the pain. Dad told me to come closer and that he would do it for me. He was right because after the initial shock of pain it was done and over with and then the pain was pretty much gone. 

These early memories are special to me because my father passed away from cancer soon after we moved to the farm. I was about 4 or 5 at the time. I really don't remember him all that much nor what he looked like save from the few pictures mom has of him. It sucks that I didn't get to know him better and every year that passes it's hard to believe it has been so long ago. I only have a few random other memories of him beside these two and I really wish that I had more. I guess I am glad that I was able to spend what time I had with him while he was here with us and have those few memories, then nothing at all.


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