Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Looking Back On Life - Part I

I was cleaning out some of my papers the other day and stumbled across an autobiography that I had written when I was was a fascinating read...especially to look back more than 35 years... that's right...35 years ago...I was a pretty good writer at the time...maybe I should have pursued writing as a career...such "insightful, sensitive and beautiful" prose my teacher wrote in the column next to my A+ grade...all written by a 14 year old...good thing I found that diary so I can now remember my early childhood. I recognized the type all crisp and double was definitely from my Smith Corona MACs or PCs...just correct-a-type or white-out...I must have been a good typist because I didn't notice any typos on any page.

But now that there are computers, I thought I would take another look at this fascinating autobiography...capture my conversation as part of my 49th what I had said 35 years ago...see if the things I said came true...yes...I wanted to read it all again and see where I came much I had changed...or maybe stayed the goes...verbatim...if you are 50...or close to 50...maybe it will bring back memories for you too:

My Conversation...(written in 1972)

It's raining today. It rained the day I was born too. My father took my mother to the Royal Hospital 14 years ago on January 8th. My sister stayed home with grandmother to await the new arrival. 11 a.m. the baby was born. It's a girl," said the doctor, "7 lbs. 5 ounces." (I was born in a Royal was a good weight...not too big and not too small.)

So, I came into this world, on that glorious day in a Royal Hospital, I was a chubby little girl, everybody thought I would grow up to be fat. I fooled them all and now at 14 I weight less than 100 pounds. (Glad I was a thin teenager...there wasn't the obesity crisis there is with today's kids...we played outside...rode bicycles...were active...ate sensibly.)

When I was one year old I took to that terrible habit of sucking the thumb. My aunt always said that I'd have buck teeth, but what could I do, my mother didn't believe in the pacifier. Well, anyway my teeth never fell out, but I must admit I did have fifteen cavities at age 5 (Ooh! wonder I never wanted to be a dentist...and now I can blame my crooked front teeth on that thumb sucking...wish my mom liked the pacifier more.)

As years went on I took to the fact of growing up. I had a normal childhood. I started school at age six. Never went to ballet school. That was the "in thing" as they say. When you were six you went to ballet school when you were seven you became a ballerina. (So there went another career move...if my mother had sent me to ballet school when I was young...I might have been a better dancer at 49).

My best friend was Mary. She lived in the same house as me. Every morning come 10 o'clock Mary and I could be found in front of the television. "Romper Room" was the favorite educational kid program. "Sesame Street" wasn't around in my time, but Miss Betsy did tell stories. (I'm starting to remember Miss Betsy...I really liked Romper Room...and I remember my friend Mary...I don't keep in touch with her anymore...but I do remember she was very smart and became a lawyer).

My love life began to rise in first grade. It was a one-sided love. I had a crush on this boy named Mitchell. I'll never forget the day the teacher walked out of the room and I kissed him. Two days later he moved to California, and that was the end of my first love. I think I cried that whole night. As time went on I forgot about the whole incident. (My love life was more exciting in the first grade than it is right now...what bold moves I took when I was go girl...wonder if Mitchell is still in California...wonder if Mitchell might find my blog at 49).

In second grade I got stuck with the same teacher. She really began to like me. Mrs. Wellman was her name. The only thing I disliked about her was the way she taught the alphabet. We read the usual "Dick and Jane" stories. To this day I can still remember "Old Spotty Boy" that dog who always got in Jane's wagon. (what memories...I can vividly picture that dog Spotty...and Dick and Jane too...I did love to read...I always went to the library to get more books...and to think now I have such little time to read...and I never get to the library anymore because if I take out a library book the three weeks go by so fast and then I don't even have time to read the now I just purchase all my books on Amazon...and I am saving them for my retirement reading...or for when I eventually can take a vacation again).

Yep, those were the days. Even third grade came as a a breeze. I had another teacher, her name was Mrs. Young. I liked her also. We went on a trip to "Kennedy Airport." I'll never forget the time we went in a plane. The first thing the guide showed us was a vomiting bag. That was the first and last time I ever set foot in an airplane. ( I didn't like airplanes when I was 14...pilot was off the career chart as well...good thing I grew out of my fear of flying...especially now that I'm approaching 50 and may want to take that big trip to some faraway place).

Wow, I'm up to fourth grade already. My life isn't so exciting, you must be falling asleep. Hang on the best is yet to come. (Okay Judi at 14...I am going to hold off until tomorrow to re-read the rest of my autobiography...I am actually falling asleep because it is very late...and at 49 I need to get some rest...I'll be back tomorrow and see what happens next...I'm enjoying looking back on my life...especially since what I am looking forward to right now is on shaky ground with my husband's illness...this little diversion is good...but I have so much strength knowing I made it through the first 14 years of my life with such stamina...I know I am going to continue to be's in my genes...especially now that I know I was born in a Royal Hospital!)

To be continued...


1 comment:

Rhea said...

We must be the same person. I had a Smith Corona, too. I also wrote an autobiography. I also still have it somewhere. I am 49. You, too, if my math is correct.