I was 6 years old and it was my birthday.
My older brother and sister and I stood with my maternal grandparents outside of the airport waving to a huge plane off in the distance. My parents were going to Italy, we were going back home with my grandparents.
I thought we might die that day as we left the airport because my grandfather- proud, strict, and very European - ignored the 10 MPH signs that were plastered, along with skid marks, on the walls of the never ending corkscrew exit.
We did make it home and there were presents. My own little gumball machine!
When my parents came home, they gave me a big doll that laughed like a real live little girl after you threw it up into the air. I hated dolls but that one was pretty badass.
Up until very recently, this was my earliest childhood memory.
I often get jealous when I hear people talking about their childhood. I just don't remember much of anything. There are bits and pieces- riding bikes to the park, getting ice cream from the ice cream truck, fighting with my siblings- but nothing too concrete. Well, not before my parents' separation when I was 9. It's like that's when I was born or something and it sucks ass because life, for me, wasn't very much fun- or childlike- after their relationship started crumbling.
It is what is though. All I can do now is try to learn from it and move forward.
It's a big reason behind blogging for me.
The thought of Lovie growing up and having unanswered questions keeps me plugging along. There's so much shit she's going to have to go through, remembering her childhood shouldn't add to it. You know?
3.) Share your earliest childhood memory. How old were you? Why was it memorable?