I have very few memories of my childhood but what I do
remember is music and books. Now that I
am at an age where memory should be slipping I am starting to recall bits and
pieces of my childhood. My teenage years
are coming back as well but it is memories of music and very few books. I left home at seventeen. I discovered I liked dressing like June
Cleaver, dancing in the street, reciting poetry and begging for change. Mostly, I liked making my own choices. Motherhood came at 20 and my world centered
on that. I became a single parent of
three at the age of thirty, so I started college, and then I joined the
workforce. When my children left home
I decided I was going to become the person that I was before children. I studied maps of Central America and dreamed
of going back. What I discovered was my
parents needed me more. I am not an only
child but I am a child that will step up to the plate.
There are two things that kept me sane at insane moments -
music and books. I passed my love of
these to my children. I remember my
first record, and what my first phonograph record player looked like. I went from Little Peggy March to The
Nationals. As far back as I can remember
music has played an important part in my life.
Like Trisha Yearwood’s song “The Song Remembers When.”
I own a large collection of music and I finally have most of
them on my computer. I have songs that
my great grandmother sang to her babies, songs from my crazy teenage years to
my adult years. I have songs that I sang
to my children. This is what this blog
is about – music, memories, or memories in the making.
