I climbed over my big brother onto the pickup seat next to my dad. This was it, the last load. When we left this time we would not be coming back.
The family had lived in other homes. My siblings told lively stories about the Pearson house though I had no memory of it. This was the only home I had known, the house on Cedar Street. I loved this house.
I hadn't wanted to get in the truck. Hadn't wanted to leave. But when you are four no one asks your opinion. You just have to go along.
As dad starts the truck I swing around backwards and climb up on my knees. I ball my hands into angry fists and rest my chin on them with my elbows propped on the back of the seat. I never want to forget this place that I love. I will keep it in my sights for as long as I possibly can memorizing every detail of it.
The engine sputters and we pull away. One block on Cedar then a right on West Street. Not a long time to keep it in my sights. It doesn't matter much anyway. It is hard to see through clouds of tears.
This is my earliest memory.
A very touching story. How far did you move?ReplyDelete
Oh, about 5 blocks! I later in life would walk back to Cedar to play with old friends, but to a 4 yr old it felt like miles!Delete
Isn't it funny we can remember those early childhood neighborhoods so well? I always will remember St. Charles Street and Raymond Street in my hometown of Elgin, IL, although I understand they look now nothing like my memories. Maybe it is better that way.ReplyDelete
In many cases it is better that way. I hate driving by the first two homes we owned in adulthood, because I am not satisfied with their care. Memory is sometimes the best viewfinder to look through.Delete
I don't know about the house on Cedar Street - but you're the cutest little thing - and very attached to a sense of place and home - even back then. Adorable.ReplyDelete
It is so true that we are who we are at the core right from the start. I was a complete homebody. Never more content than when I was home with my family.Delete
Awwww May...I just want to reach out an hug that little baby girl that left her home. Well weaved words!ReplyDelete
I think my parents were excited having finally bought a home rather than renting, but I was not on board in the least!Delete
I'm glad you didn't have to go too far. The memories of our early childhood stay with us somehow, even when we have to draw it out of brains at times. :)ReplyDelete
Oh.... cloudy tears. I know what that feels like to leave a place you love. We're blessed to have those memories that make a place near and dear to our heart's. I will always love my childhood home.ReplyDelete
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