Monday, April 11, 2005
Week of Discovery...memories in training
There were three of us: My brother Johnny-monkey, My cousin, Suzii, and I, Niecie. We were a team as children--triplets of the common cause. Girls against the boy, boy against the girls, but always together, despite the practical jokes Johnny would play on us to get a laugh, like the time when he told us there were dead bodies buried at the side of the house on Dennison in California. Of course, we believed him, and would never go to the side of the house lest we be grabbed from the ankles by some wayward skeleton. We always received the same gifts or toys, probably because our mothers shopped together. Suzii and I got the same Brown stuffed Bunny and grey fuzzy bunny bank in our Easter baskets, and Johnny got the Grey stuffed Bunny and the white fuzzy bunny bank. All the candy was the same having been split three ways from the same bag or bought simultaneously from the same candy store.
Our mothers never did anything lightly. If they gave a gift, it was a good gift, and wrapped with all the care and artistic flair of Picasso. If they made a cake, it wasn't just a cake, it was a masterpiece of brilliance, and both of them did it professionally. Unfortunately, through the years, the two of them were on again, off again friends, not always seeing eye-to-eye. A tiff would send them into the "not speaking" mode, and those were tough times when we kids couldn't see each other. But it was the times when they were speaking when things were good and life was good and we did stuff together.
There was a year that will never be forgotten...a week of discoveries for us; discovery of fun, discovery of knowledge, discovery of memories, but most of all, the discovery that our mothers wanted us to be more than we were, to be and know all that we could, and to savor life with every part of our being. They planned a week of fun, where we would go to one place every day. One day, the LaBrea Tarpits, then the Hunnington Library, on to the Palomar's Adobe and Knott's Berry Farm, we'd spend a day in Disneyland, and a day at the LA museum where there was a fabulous Egyptian exhibit (which, by the way, ironically, was the most fascinating thing for me...now the wife of an Egyptian). We followed the plan, and did everything, except the Adobe, as it was closed that day. So many memories from that week float around in my brain, that it is hard to write them all. Of course, the "famous" memory is one we all share...the "I found the dollar first" memory, where we were waiting in line at the museum, and Suzii and I saw a dollar lying on the ground near us. I grabbed it first, and being children, naturally, the argument ensued. Aunt Jackie and Mom suggested I rip it in half and share it. I was 6 years old, but I knew that if I ripped that dollar in half it would be worthless, and, after all, I grabbed it first, it should have been mine, right? Nonetheless, after much cajoling and arguing, I would not let go of that dollar, so they gave Suzii one of her own...Regardless of who saw it first, Suze, I got you a dollar instead of fifty cents! They also gave Johnny a dollar, the innocent bystander, because they had to "keep it even".
So many memories...the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, and the Haunted Mansion. Now, of course they are movies inspired by the rides, but then, they were the best thing on earth. How we giggled to see the green ghost in the mirror sitting on our laps in the moving chair Or in "Pirates", the skeleton drinking rum...you could see the rum go down through his ribs, and that was gruesomely cool. The gardens in the Hunnington Library, oh, could I but stroll again on that vast lawn flanked by myriads of statues. The log ride and the mine train ride, Johnny's favorite, at "Knott's Berry Farm". The pools of tar that sent our imagination reeling with the thought of animals sinking into their depths, and the museum where the tiny woman's skeleton was displayed...a woman that had been trapped in the tar. EWWW! Cool!
It is these memories that I will hold tightly. They were the last, big, whoopdidoo of our time together in California, for shortly my family would move to Washington state, and for a time we would be separated from Suzii's family. After the move, nothing was quite the same, as nothing ever remains stationary for long, and we grew and gathered different memories, each with different interpretations. Johnny, the oldest of us, grew away from us, maybe because he was a boy, maybe, because he longed for independence, while Suzii and I grew closer, and gleaned memories of our own.
Aunt Jackie is gone now, and my mother disabled. We can never go back and "do it again for old-time's sake". Yet, still, we can sit at the table together and laugh, and cry, and relive the glory days, because they are still just as vivid in my mind as if they'd happened yesterday, and I know I'm not alone.
Our mothers never did anything lightly. If they gave a gift, it was a good gift, and wrapped with all the care and artistic flair of Picasso. If they made a cake, it wasn't just a cake, it was a masterpiece of brilliance, and both of them did it professionally. Unfortunately, through the years, the two of them were on again, off again friends, not always seeing eye-to-eye. A tiff would send them into the "not speaking" mode, and those were tough times when we kids couldn't see each other. But it was the times when they were speaking when things were good and life was good and we did stuff together.
There was a year that will never be forgotten...a week of discoveries for us; discovery of fun, discovery of knowledge, discovery of memories, but most of all, the discovery that our mothers wanted us to be more than we were, to be and know all that we could, and to savor life with every part of our being. They planned a week of fun, where we would go to one place every day. One day, the LaBrea Tarpits, then the Hunnington Library, on to the Palomar's Adobe and Knott's Berry Farm, we'd spend a day in Disneyland, and a day at the LA museum where there was a fabulous Egyptian exhibit (which, by the way, ironically, was the most fascinating thing for me...now the wife of an Egyptian). We followed the plan, and did everything, except the Adobe, as it was closed that day. So many memories from that week float around in my brain, that it is hard to write them all. Of course, the "famous" memory is one we all share...the "I found the dollar first" memory, where we were waiting in line at the museum, and Suzii and I saw a dollar lying on the ground near us. I grabbed it first, and being children, naturally, the argument ensued. Aunt Jackie and Mom suggested I rip it in half and share it. I was 6 years old, but I knew that if I ripped that dollar in half it would be worthless, and, after all, I grabbed it first, it should have been mine, right? Nonetheless, after much cajoling and arguing, I would not let go of that dollar, so they gave Suzii one of her own...Regardless of who saw it first, Suze, I got you a dollar instead of fifty cents! They also gave Johnny a dollar, the innocent bystander, because they had to "keep it even".
So many memories...the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, and the Haunted Mansion. Now, of course they are movies inspired by the rides, but then, they were the best thing on earth. How we giggled to see the green ghost in the mirror sitting on our laps in the moving chair Or in "Pirates", the skeleton drinking rum...you could see the rum go down through his ribs, and that was gruesomely cool. The gardens in the Hunnington Library, oh, could I but stroll again on that vast lawn flanked by myriads of statues. The log ride and the mine train ride, Johnny's favorite, at "Knott's Berry Farm". The pools of tar that sent our imagination reeling with the thought of animals sinking into their depths, and the museum where the tiny woman's skeleton was displayed...a woman that had been trapped in the tar. EWWW! Cool!
It is these memories that I will hold tightly. They were the last, big, whoopdidoo of our time together in California, for shortly my family would move to Washington state, and for a time we would be separated from Suzii's family. After the move, nothing was quite the same, as nothing ever remains stationary for long, and we grew and gathered different memories, each with different interpretations. Johnny, the oldest of us, grew away from us, maybe because he was a boy, maybe, because he longed for independence, while Suzii and I grew closer, and gleaned memories of our own.
Aunt Jackie is gone now, and my mother disabled. We can never go back and "do it again for old-time's sake". Yet, still, we can sit at the table together and laugh, and cry, and relive the glory days, because they are still just as vivid in my mind as if they'd happened yesterday, and I know I'm not alone.
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You are right... you are not alone in your thoughts. Alot of your words come from my own mind... only that even if you did get the original dollar that was seen... I did SEE it first! I can sit and quietly go back to any given place in my memory... and my heart and soul once again relives the pure delight of childhood innocences that are just within the grasp of my fingertips... much like the dollar. There is alot to say about how we handled the dollar situation... I stayed behind the red ropes for fear of getting in trouble... and you... well... you always have loved life on the outside of the red ropes! I love you Niecie!
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