Why do very old memories lose their color over time? They seem to fade like early snapshots from an old Brownie box camera, and yet, even lacking color they do not lose their emotion.
~~~
Standing there, holding onto the coffee table for balance, she looks to the front door of the apartment they live in. There is a couch behind her and in front of the coffee table there is a reading chair by the window. Though tiny of stature she can sense that the room is small.
Then the door opens, and there is her father filling the space of the door frame. As he walks in he smiles and looks down at her. Dressed in creased and pressed military slacks and a white undershirt, he wears his cap folded flat and tucked in at the waist. She notices there is something on his shoulder. Reaching up to take it, he tells her,
“It is a kitten.”
People I used to know 
Reblogged this on Life on the Farmlet and commented:
I have another blog. I haven’t shared it before today, but today’s writing prompt, *Childhood Revisited, seemed to fit best on the other side. The stories I share are from memory, and sometimes will be raw and brutally honest. Everyone has a past. This one is mine.
* http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2012/12/08/daily-prompt-childhood-revisited/
How wonderful to discover your other blog and such a stunning memory.. c
You have no idea how hard it was to let go and share this “other blog.” I’m glad you like it. It means a lot.
I am so glad you have done this!
Thank you Julie, it was hard to let this space out into the open, but yes, I’m glad I did it too.
I know and I admire you for it.
I was surprised too that you have a third blog out here, although I can see wanting to keep some things private. I’d like to hear more about the kitten though. Was it something you’d really wanted? Did your Dad know that or was it a surprise? Something he thought would cheer you up? Did he like cats or was this a real sacrifice for him? Inquiring minds want to know! Or is that your nosy friend wants o know? Hmm. . . not sure.
Nancy, there are only two now. Sadly, I had to give up one (but never fear, I haven’t given up on the cause! 🙂 ) The honest story about this first memory exists just as I wrote it. I remember holding onto the table for balance and therefore assume I was somewhere between one and two years old. I as got older I can tell you definitively that my dad was a cat lover, so one would assume he wanted the kitten. I also imagine that he was excited to see my reaction.
Is there a picture of mine that you would particularly like for the header? If you do, let me know the dimensions and I’ll make it up for your secret garden. I hope you don’t mind that I read them all and left some comments. If it bothers you, please just delete them.
If you’d like a header but are not sure what, give me a general description and I can send you some ideas.
The truth is… I found the header picture supplied to be dripping in irony. As time goes by you will read more and understand. Or, maybe I will change my mind and change the header. 😉 As for all the comments I have quite enjoyed them! I started this blog in November of 2011, and it has been languishing here with few comments, and even less posting from me. Letting go, and letting my blog friends know about it, is a good thing, so thank you Nancy!
If you change your mind on the header, let me know! Otherwise, I’ll look at it whenever you post and know it’s exactly what you want.
😀
Aren’t memories strange and wonderful? My first memory is of my mother catching a mouse while I’m sitting in my high chair in the kitchen. It’s just a snapshot – real, connected memories don’t come again until I was older.
I love the detail of you holding on to the coffee table. Toddler-sized, you must have been! 😉
Linda, isn’t it amazing how our little memories come bubbling to the surface of our conscious leaving those large blanks of space where nothing ever happened? We know the nothing was filled with everyday incidences, and yet, they are lost forever! And yes, I am certain I had to have been a toddler! 🙂
It’s wonderful to know I’m not the only one! My earliest memory – just a few seconds worth – is of following a baby’s ruffly bottom, at my eye level, while she crawls across a linoleum floor, up one step, and into a hall.
Only there are no words. Just images, and a feeling of intense delighted curiosity.
It wasn’t until years later that I saw that kitchen and hallway again and realized that the incident happened at my great-aunt Mildred’s, which meant that the baby had to be my cousin, her only granddaughter, who is ten weeks younger than I am. Since my cousin was crawling well, she must have been (at least) a bit over six months old but too young to walk, and that means this memory has to go back to a time when I was somewhere between nine and fourteen months old.
Where are the images of the rest of that year? Gone, gone with yesteryear’s snows. As much of a mystery as the reason that this glimpse has stayed with me.
It is so odd what our brains will allow us to remember and forget. I once read that everything is still stored there, but we just can’t recall it. So strange and mysterious our brains are!
Thank you for visiting, Newpillowbook!
Drat! I somehow lost this blog address when I set up my Google Reader some time back. Now I will have some catching up to do! This is a nice first memory… one you deserve to have. You remember a lot of detail, which I always find intriguing in a young person. This moment is important, I’m sure you realize… or you wouldn’t have held it close for so long.
Lori, there is not too much catching up, I promise! I’m glad that you have found me again!
Strangely, this memory comes back to me often, so yes, I believe it was important for me to have held it so close for so long. Kind of a salve for later perhaps?