A couple of years ago, I decided to start writing memories in story form, as far back in time as I could remember. I intend on publishing it just for my own record keeping, since we are now in the day in age of self-publishing. I think it would be cool to put one of my 1st grade stories next to a published book of mine. Anyway, I forgot I had started this until recently and decided to read what I had written thus far. I thought I would share it on here, since after all it is my blog and I can post what I want. So here it goes, let me know what you think…
As far back as I can remember, my maternal grandparents, affectionately known as, Nan and Pap were in my memories. My mom and dad both worked full time and Nan would watch me during the day. When Pap was done with work we would go swimming in their pool in the summer time or go sledding in the winter time. Literally over hill and dale. They were my constant, just like my parents were. They were always there for me. I could go to them with problems or for advice just like my parents. To me I had two sets of parents. Now I’m practically recreating history.
My sons are being watched everyday by my mom. It makes me feel safe and secure knowing that they are with her. Just as I felt safe and secure at Nan and Pap’s. The only thing that is missing now is my dear Pap. He passed away of the evil disease cancer 2 months to the day that my dear son, Kyle was born. If I stop and think about it, it saddens me so much not to have my Pap here to enjoy my little boy. However, I know what he would say. You did good Tara and Joe! If he greeted him, he would say hey tinker pot! If he was bad ‘I’m going to spank your heiner’ or ‘I’m going to put a whoopin on you’. He would probably also say ‘You’re Pap’s boy, aren’t you?’ Although my son has never met my Pap in this life, he points to him in the picture of Nan and him from our wedding. I have reason to believe that babies as little as infants can see angels. Since his death I knew that he, along with our Heavenly Father, would look after my little one and keep him safe.
My family is a HUGE part of my life and have had a hand in the women I have become. Here is my story.
From the beginning, I have always thought my family was the perfect family. Despite what we’ve been through. I would never trade my family or my life. It is a part of me and for that I’m grateful. I’m grateful for every bump in the road, every high, every low, every imperfection and every wonderful moment. I would go to my grandparents house everyday up until the day I went to Kindergarten. My Nan had watched me from 3 months old to 4 years old. How awesome is that! Part of me thinks that I should have stuck it out at Preschool but it was either too good for me or I was too good for it. I didn’t like it. I would rather be at Nan and Pap’s playing with my play kitchen and serving my imaginary restaurant patrons from behind the bar in their basement while watching- Today’s Special, Reading Rainbow, Gilligan’s Island and It’s A Living. The latter is probably where I got the whole serving idea.
If it was summer I would wait patiently for Nan to be done cleaning, and Pap to get home from work to go swimming. I can just remember now the days of box fans and whole house fans- no AC and just dying to get into that refreshing pool water. If it was winter Pap would play out in the snow with me. Nan and Pap always had the holiday picnics or get togethers at their home. They had the pool and they had the basement for it. We were all a close knit family. You could bet on everyone being there at Nan and Pap’s for every family get together. Heck, some family friends would find themselves there because we WERE the great American family so everyone felt welcome there.
To me this was my world. My haven. My heaven on earth.
By the time I was 5 we had moved 3 times within a 12 mile radius. We settled into a red brick ranch situated on an acre of land a stones throw away from Nan and Pap. I remember the day we moved in and the first possession that was placed into my purple room was my Fisher Price Zoo. This would be the home I would grow up in and never want to leave. At that point I had to transfer to a different school district. Therefore, I went to two different schools by the time I was done with Kindergarten. Throughout elementary school I was involved in Girl Scouts, in which I managed to complete all the badges required for Brownies.
I was also heavily involved in dance classes. I took up ballet, baton, tap while in Elementary. I was always tapping in the kitchen (much to my mom’s dismay, I probably slowly destroyed the linoleum, on the deck and dancing in my room. My world was my stage. I would perform like I was on broadway. When I was in the 4th grade my cousin, Annmarie, dared or convinced me to perform, impromptu to Paula Abdul’s ‘Forever Your Girl’ for our family and friends at my parents Memorial Day picnic. Wow what a rush! To this day, whenever I hear that song I think of that day. I took up Jazz and continued tap in middle school and at one point I was performing 6 dance numbers (3 for each form of dance). This was my element. I loved every minute of it! I never remember wishing I was better than the other girls because to me I was great at what I did.
When I was in 7th grade, I started to get harassed pretty frequently in school. I pretty much kept to myself and had friends in dance class and church but that’s about it. It got to the point where I wanted to transfer to a Christian school after hearing about it through a family friend. I decided to quit dance classes since none of the girls at my new school attended dance classes. This is a decision I wish I could take back. I let go of one of the things that I was really good at. I really don’t know where it would have taken me but it’s kinda of cool to imagine!
I grew up as an only child. I remember always wishing on things that I would one day have a sibling of my own. None of my friends were only children and I remember some of them saying how lucky I was. I never really felt weird though. I enjoyed being with my parents and I would call us ‘The Three Musketeers’.
During the summer, there would be times that my dad was home with me during the day, depending on which shift he was working. We would go out on the river in his fishing boat and I would get bored and he told me to swim in to the dock and wait for him. Um, we were in the middle of the river! But I did it. Yes, life jacket and all. I always enjoyed the trips to the beach and historical sites. I think that’s where my obsession started with the Colonial times. I remember visiting places like Monticello, Disney World (once, yes folks, once), Martha’s Vineyard, Nantucket, Cape Cod, Cape May, Niagara Falls, the Thousand Islands, Boldt Castle, Smokey Mountains, Nashville, the Outer Banks, New York- Ellis Island and Myrtle Beach. Basically, I’ve been all up and down the Eastern Seaboard. It was Myrtle Beach that my parents and I were walking along the water, I was collecting seashells. My mom says she remembers hearing a jingle sound and here I was stuffing them in my blue and white striped romper. Haha. I never once felt deprived. We didn’t go on vacation every year and we saved for it.
