Hester Heights-A Good Time Shared

"CCCHHRRIISSSS!!!" that was the yell I heard echoing through the tunnel that ran below the street. You know, those drain tunnels.. that were for the water on really rainy days.. those places of refuge for us kids to hide from the sun.. the temporary fort they provided when we were bored of our other hiding places. So I poke my head out one end and holler back " COMING"!! This was only two houses down so it would only be a matter of seconds before I was on our front porch. As I swung open the door I could smell the aroma of dinner..that warm feeling that wofts over your face that tantalize a number of senses.. maybe even cause your mouth to become instantly watery. I can't say I remember the exact thing we were having..but I rarely forget not having eaten well.. mom could sure cook.. no question about that. So, I sat down after having washed up, sure, hands clean but the rest of me smelled like outside.. the outside odor of a sweaty kid, the one that is mixed with fresh cut grass scents that had combined with the drippings from my forehead, down to the "fun" smell we carried with us back in those days. You remember that smell.. maybe you even get reminded of that each time your kid runs in or you catch a hint of that on the air one day.. those scents that always always remind you of a time in your life where you may or may not want to forget. This FUN smell I describe always takes me back to the happy places in my mind as I recall childhood. Sometimes I have thought so much of it.. the smell isn't really there at all.. but somehow I can still smell it.. like it was mixed up just for me at that moment and placed in front of a fan or vent.. and then as soon as it has come.. it is gone.. and I let go.

I eat quickly.. then BEG to go back out before the sun comes down.. Amy, my companion in the tunnel earlier, was doing the same thing. We needed to get back to the tunnel to finish our excursion. Wrap up our outdoor day and see who's mom we could coax into a sleep over. It wasn't enough, naturally, to play from sun up till sun down,, we need the entire 24 hours of the day.. and even then that didn't seem long enough.

There were four of us.. all living within the same block next door to each other..only one across the street.. It went Amy, Beth then me.. then across the street Dana. The groups, as it were, was never comprised of the same ring leaders.. some of the time it would be me and Dana conspiring against Amy and Beth, other times it would be me and Amy, conspiring against the world. Dana was a couple years older than me, Amy was only a year.. but in the same grade as I, and Beth had a few years on all of us.. all still close enough in age to get along as a group.... sometimes.

I could pretty well say that back then.. it was Amy and I that were the tightest .. we had a special friendship that only she and I would ever know about.. a special connection.. a certain thinking that led us to many discoveries about one another and ourselves.. No, I could say, probably not at the time did we realized that those things were beyond our years, I know I can at least look back and remember several times during our friendship as children that can probably explain a lot of how I am as an adult. I wonder sometimes does she ever think back to our childhood and remember me. We went through school together and graduated together.. but after I moved from that house in Hester Heights.. it was a rare occassion that we spent time together.. and as that happens it is inevitable that the pillars of friendship crumble down. I don't miss her so much , well one because its been nearly 15 years or more since we spoke, but I miss those days..the ones where we were the only ones in the world... and those discoveries.. keeping them our secret. Even as child of 3,4, and 5 years old I remember conscious efforts to retain and maintain certain memories.. is that common in children??? I wonder what the purpose of that is.. I bet we will find out as we go........

Random Early Memories

Half grown grass comes to mind,, when I remember looking towards the road from our yard,, the yard that seems so incredibly large for my small eyes.. those small eyes searching for my trike.. My tricycle, the first one, with the white plastic seat and bars of purple.. let's not forget the fancy streamers that dangled listlessly from the handles. How it got but just a few feet from the road, I don't recall..but I won't forget the warning yell I received as I sped myself towards it.. and the road. "Get back here!! I will get that for you!" The words that sprang from my mother's mouth. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked around at the small white house of whose porch my mother was leaping. She looked like she had seen a ghost. Of course it, her paleness, was from sheer terror that her baby girl would wander into the busy street. I remember just standing there, waiting anxiously for the retrieval of my trike,, and then focusing my attention to the white '72 Chevy truck that was parked in the yard. It seems now that we were preparing to load up the trike and take a trip.. but alas I can't recall exactly. After my mother draws near and loads the trike,, the memory fades..and the rest of that day in history.. is just that .. history..doubtful that it was a day that anyone remembers for any of its significance.. but those few minutes for some reason are burned into my memory bank. Its not so bad that I only have those few minutes.. can you name any 18 month olds that have a memory they remember into adulthood.. ?? Yes.. it was approximated that I was only about 18 months old when that memory took place.. as we had moved into another house by the age of 2.

When I think back upon my life, and think about my first memories, that is the one that always comes to me first. It makes me wonder why and what significance it had .. or will have. I even remember thinking then remember this.. as I stood facing a fast approaching mother. How odd. To this day, I do have a tremendous memory.. it may not come immediately, but never more than a few minutes that I can pull odd days of my life and recall them so dramatically it was as if they happened only days ago.

As I delve back through my life in times of quiet, I often wonder, did I repress memories of the awful days, the days of regret, the days of torture and abuse? Why is it that no matter how bad it ever got, I recall a happy childhood? When in reality, thinking back with a wiser mind, I know that it wasn't that.. in fact,, not even really close to being terribly great. When I think of my emotions and feelings during those "happy" times.. I distinctly recall being surrounded in my mind with fears and worry of doing things "just right". Will this be the day that the eggshells that I tiptoed over every day, suddenly collapse with the floor beneath me? The waiting to see what kind of mood he's in, to making sure he doesn't know of anything I might have done that day that wasn't up to his standards? The SECRETS! How can I avoid him, and him not read my mind and see how terrified he made me? Was this just an early way to put into place a defense mechanism? Who knows.. if it was.. it saved me.. made my life livable.. got me through. It got me through.. but at what cost?