The Early Years

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The Early Years



The Daily Post



Write page three of your autobiography.



I do not know a great deal about what might be on page three of my autobiography. The stories that my families seem to tell take on a life of their own until truth and legend intermingle and what is left is either the rose-colored glasses one desires to see because your childhood was for-the-most-part wonderful and uneventful, or the dark-clouded-tragedies of victimhood that today’s sociological and political pundits want us to see as the cause of all of society’s woes.

So… Just the Facts?

My mother had rheumatic fever when I was just a child. It was after my sister was born- I think. Dad had to work three, or maybe four or more, jobs to keep us in groceries and the utilities and rent afloat. (I am not sure what utilities were back then- one of my grandparent’s had an outdoor pump for water and outdoor facilities for a restroom. An earlier home, as a child, had both of these also.) I remember NOTHING of the pressures that must have went on in our home. I remember sitting on Mom’s bed and being read to from Mike Mulligan and the Steam Shovel. It was my favorite book. (I think that Dad might have been doing the reading?) I remember wanting to ride on our German shepherd’s back like a cowboy and attempting to do so many times. I remember birthday cake in the face. At least I think I remember these things? No guarantee!

Fact:

  • Mom had rheumatic fever.
  • Dad had several jobs at one time.
  • Mike Mulligan and the Steam Shovel was a book.
  • We had a German shepherd.
  • I had/ have a sister.

The rest of it …. All caught up in legends.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Early Years.”

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