I just figured you were into calling all of the women of the Oval Society of the PoBo poetess... aka 'tess.sorry
i have no idea why i mix you two up - it might be something about the avatars, but apart from that i haven't a clue.
could be, annie, could be.
after what you've been through recently, in fear of losing ron, perhaps something in you has said 'well, hell, girl - you got through that, now you're strong enough to handle the memories with an adult perspective, rather than being totally undone by the fears as a child experienced them'. i wish you the strength, the calm, the peace that dealing with these things will hopefully bring you.
To add to what our Miss butters has said, I also want you to imagine the strength of the community you've built around your life. With social media, here on the PoBo, and within your day-to-day home and physical neighbourhood, you've got a huge variety of friends whose affection and companionship gives you a worldwide network of support and caring to draw upon if the need arises.Thanks hun
at least you know how to recognise them now when they do come, annie - and know you can get through them and cope with the nature of their manifestation.
My oldest memory was of being sick and throwing up. I talked with my mom before she died because I thought maybe my "old" memories were taken from conversations between my parents or others but my mother said no, that I actually remembered being sick. I had gastroenteritis and in my mom's attempt to keep me fed and hydrated, she gave me chicken and stars soup.
Other than that, my earliest memories were mostly good Like Angeline, they involved my grandfather. He "kidnapped" me from our front porch when I was about 2 1/2 years old. I had a little seafoam green suitcase that I had crammed full of things and when unpacked, he gave me a huge bag of pennies to separate the Indian heads from the wheat leaf ones. He taught me to count using his old silver dollars.
My grandparents lived next door and he was sheriff of the county we lived in. I have probably a dozen or so memories of him and that's miraculous since he died when I was 3. I still miss him so much it hurts, but I know he is my guardian angel.
To whomever started this thread, thanks. I needed to relive them again as today is the anniversary of his death in 1966.
~NJ
at least you know how to recognise them now when they do come, annie - and know you can get through them and cope with the nature of their manifestation.
