Sunday, April 29, 2012

Thirty...Childhood Memories

Question #20: "Describe 3 significant memories from your childhood."

1. When I was seven years old my best friend, Lana Patterson passed away from Leukemia. Although she was very ill most of the time, her illness did not keep us apart...I often went with her while she received treatments in the hospital. We spent a lot of time together, staying at each others homes overnight, playing at the park and we were in the same class at West Elementary School. We were in the first grade when Lana died...I remember the morning that she passed, it was very early...the sun wasn't even up yet. I heard the phone ring as I lay in my bed....I can still remember hearing my mother's footsteps up the stairs towards my bedroom and the creak of my bed as she sat on the side, gently rubbing my back to wake me. "Lana passed away this morning..." she whispered. I don't remember if I said anything....or if I just cried. I'm not really sure I understood completely....

2. My grandparents owned a men's clothing store downtown called Czarlinsky's (their last name). I used to make bows for the Christmas packages during the holiday season....I loved my grandparents store. My brother and I used to weave in and out of the clothing racks, squealing with joy as we played "catch me if you can...." Sometimes my grandmother would let me ring the customers up and I loved the feel of pushing the buttons on antique cash register, the sound of the bell as the cash drawer popped open. After the lunch hour and the crowd had died down my grandfather would walk me next door for hot onion rings from Daisy Delight! That was always a great treat!

3. After my parents divorce my father moved into an apartment on Hutton Lane. It was a small, one bedroom apartment and my brother and I would stay with him on Wednesday evenings and every other weekend. Once  during a weekend visit my father bought me a package of rub on tattoos and I had placed a tattoo on top of my right hand (I was eight years old). Later that evening I decided I didn't want the tattoo on my hand anymore and I tried to wash it wouldn't come off. My dad was watching a football game with my brother so I shut the bathroom door and grabbed my father's razor that was inside the shower. I started to "scrape" the tattoo off my hand....after about five minutes of "scrapping" with no avail, I walked into the family room and asked my dad for help....he FLIPPED out!! I remember him saying that I could have cut a vein and bled to death.....he couldn't believe what I was doing. Needless to say, I didn't sleep well that night....I had visions of blood squirting out of my hand and me dropping dead on the bathroom floor. 


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