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Wednesday's Child is Full of Woe
The day I was born it was washday, or so I've been told. My grandmother ALWAYS washed on Mondays, and my mother was living with her. Therefore, I always thought I was "Monday's Child--Fair of Face". Imagine my ...
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From
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| 02/24/1943 12/31/1948 | |
The Long Hot Days of Summer
ESSAYS OF CHILDHOOD IN THE FIFTIES: The hot Texas sun beat down mercilessly on us. There were no trees in the post-war boom development; just row after row of stucco houses. The only ...
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From
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| 01/01/1951 12/31/1951 | |
Snapshot memories
Psychologists say that very young children's memories are "flashbulb" or snapshot memories. You know, the kind where you remember a scene just as it was lifted from a photograph album. A brief vignette in time; usually ...
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From
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| 01/01/1946 12/31/1948 | |
The Dutton House
It was always a mess, that house. And it wasn't just the size of the house that made it so hard to maintain. For even though we moved three times in my childhood and teenhood, the interior of each house we lived in remained ...
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From
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| 01/01/1951 12/31/1958 | |
In My Grandparents House are Many Memories
Even though they must have moved 100 times in their lifetime, the interior of my maternal grandparent's home has remained the same in my memory in regard to each of their houses. My grandfather was a Methodist minister and ...
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From
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| 01/01/1943 12/31/1980 | |
Part of My Journey
On October 12, 1978, I was an average American middle class woman with a husband, three children, a two story house, two dogs, one cat and a full time job in insurance as a claims examiner, and more than I could possibly ...
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From
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| 01/01/1978 12/31/2009 | |
April's Day
It was a hot, muggy, late August day in Dallas, Texas. At age twenty-one, I had worked all day in the circulation service department at the Wall Street Journal, picked up my two year old from the baby sitter, and was ...
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From
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| 04/01/1965 12/31/1966 | |
My Grandmother's Stories
As a child, I didn’t realize how fortunate I was to be able to spend time with my grandmother, and hear the stories of her life growing up. She was only thirty five when I was born, having had my mother at age sixteen, ...
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From
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| 07/31/1907 12/17/1980 | |
School Days and Friends
Leila P. Cowart; I went there in 1st grade; then to another school W.W. Bushman in 2nd grade, then back to Leila P. Cowart 3rd through 7th grade. I walked the three long (city) blocks to school in fair weather or not, but ...
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From
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| 01/01/1949 12/31/1955 | |
Snapshot memories of Lisa, My Firstborn
Sitting in my hospital bed, white as the sheet…..”Where is my baby?”, I ask tearfully. It is not you, but me, the reason I didn’t see you for twelve hours, an eternity. You are in the kitchen sink, screaming, ...
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From
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| 01/01/1962 12/31/1985 | |
The First Bath
; & #160; 160; 60; 0; ; & #160; 160; 60; 0; The square white washrag with the aqua trim floated in the one half inch of tepid water. A rectangular white towel with aqua trim lay spread out on the tile ...
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From
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| 01/01/1962 12/31/1985 | |
The Wedding
The church was hushed, quiet and reverent. The organ music soft. The bridesmaids sparkled like rubies and one large diamond (the bride) glistened in the setting. The pink flowers and white candles enhanced the elegance ...
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From
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| 01/01/1962 12/31/1985 | |
Through the Eyes of a Mother, Snapshot Memories, Jason, ...
The childbirth is over after much anticipation, quickly, as if the baby boy didn’t want to cause his mother any trouble…..at all. The dark eyed, dark haired baby lays in his crib in the hospital delivery room looking around, ...
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From
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| 01/01/1962 12/31/2003 | |
Little Girls Have to Grow Up
Walking up the three familiar steps to the small two bedroom frame house, I balanced my baby on one hip and juggled a sack of groceries with the opposite arm. Although I had a slender frame, I was tall, and used to coping ...
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| Comments (4) |
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From
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| 01/01/1965 12/31/2009 | |
Raymond Meets Julia, circa 1921
A shiny black roadster with a bright silver fender sat at the side of a narrow country road. On the fender perched a plump ripe peach. A young man in overalls walked slowly toward the car, staring in wonder at the peach ...
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From
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| 01/01/1902 12/31/1980 | |
Mother's Day Thoughts
It seems in 1974-75, I wrote more in verse than I did in prose; not sure why. Thought it was appropriate though, to put the following together just in time for Mother’s Day, 2009. The first, memories of my maternal grandmother, ...
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| Comments (2) |
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From
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| 01/01/1961 12/31/2009 | |
Mother's Miraculous Gift to Us
The most compelling story I can tell about my mother is the one where she lay dying from cancer, and the miracle that we witnessed. However, I would like to start with a few stories before that day. My mother, Helen Marguerite ...
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From
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| 07/14/1924 12/31/1993 | |
Hittting a Bottom
The amber fluid swirled around in the glass as I set it down. What had started out as my friend, then became my enemy was no longer doing anything for me. In the beginning, alcohol had soothed me, elated me, made me talk, loosened ...
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From
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| 01/01/1972 12/31/1973 | |
Elizabeth Taylor Doesn't Live Here
In May, just as school was out when I was in 7th grade, I was the next to shortest girl in my class, about 5’2”, I think. Of course, we would compare ourselves to each other in millimeters so there were a lot of girls just a ...
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| Comments (7) |
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From
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| 01/01/1955 12/31/1957 | |
Elvis, Poodle Skirts,Petticoats & Ponytails
To finish my middle school years, I must add the story of my discovery of Elvis Presley and RockandRoll. All of a sudden at school, there was a buzz about this new singer, his name one I had never heard before….Elvis. Even Buddy ...
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| Comments (4) |
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From
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| 01/01/1957 12/31/1958 | |