I Remember...

Christmas is the time of year when we all seem to dig back into memories to recall our traditions and the experiences we shared with our families when we were younger.  This year has added to it the knowledge that it has now been one year since Mom died.  Looking back, I am glad that two Christmases ago we were able to put together a small book of  memories of  the times we had growing up in Mom's house to give her as a Christmas gift. 

My memories of childhood are not always the clearest so a few days ago, I sat sat down and wrote a stream of consciousness, “I Remember” list.  It is a technique that writing teachers have traditionally used to get ideas for writing, but I just used it to try to help bring some of my memories back to consciousness.  There is no particular organization to it. When I was done, I looked at it and thought that perhaps other family members might be interested in seeing it because it might trigger some of their own memories, so I’m posting it and inviting anyone who has things to add to it or post a list of their own. (See below the list for how to.)

I remember the time we were driving our '49 DeSoto to San Diego from Santa Ana and it died, so the whole family had to hitchhike.

I remember Grandpa Wilkins' coin collection.

I remember piling in back of the rambler station wagon and singing at the top of our voices.

I remember trying to deliver newspapers in by bicycle in the hot Santa Ana winds.

I remember seeing a fire from the playground of Willard Jr. High school and running down the street to see it, only to find out it was our house.

I remember Mom clicking her teeth at all of the grandchildren.

I remember Mary answering the door at Grandma’s and calling out, “there’s a woman at the door and she’s really fat!”

I remember how Dad liked mincemeat pie.

I remember how we used to dry our clothes by hanging them out on a clothes line.

I remember that the bulbs we used on the Christmas tree were much bigger than the ones today and that the tinsel was real tinsel, not plastic.

I remember that we had to ask permission to take anything out of the refrigerator.

I remember that peppermint was my favorite flavor of ice cream.

Of course, I remember Mom fastening Ed to the clothes line by his suspenders.

I remember the whole family watching Bonanza, the Ed Sullivan show, Disneyland or Lawrence Welk on Sunday nights.

I remember how we would all kneel down to say the rosary each night during lent.

I remember going to watch Pat’s little league games

I remember the Christmas when Steve and I got our first bikes.

I remember having cow’s tongue for dinner.

I remember when the Mass was still in Latin and we would sing Adeste Fidelis in the original words.

I remember that two years in a row, a box with food for Thanksgiving dinner was dropped off at our house.

I remember that Grandpa Wilkins would ring the necks of the chickens he raised.

I remember family pinochle games at holidays.

I remember ping pong matches on the backyard patio.

I remember walking past a pet store on my first day of kindergarten.

I remember the smell of the campfire at the camp for at risk youth during the summer after eighth grade.

I remember spam and Ovaltine.

I remember Mom making syrup for hotcakes out of mapeline.

I remember lying in bed earlier Christmas morning in the dark unable to get back to sleep.

I remember the first time our family went out to a restaurant together and eating Chinese food.

I remember that mom always called pizza “pizza pie” and pronounced Italian with a long I.

I remember Mom’s stories of getting her tongue frozen stuck on a gate.

I remember climbing the apricot tree at Grandma’s.

I remember how Dad used to give us all haircuts and one time he let Mom try to cut his hair.

I remember planting the redbud tree in our front yard when it had arrived in the mail as a twig.

I remember boils, pinworms and impetigo.

I remember lining up in school to get vaccinations.

I remember grandma’s ringer washer.

I remember fried chicken and mashed potatoes on Sundays – Mom’s was the best.

I remember Mom always wore clip on earrings.

I remember the silk jackets Dad brought Steve and I back from Korea.

I remember that Dave always had the best penmanship in the family.

I remember sitting in front of the television watching the test patterns and waiting for shows to come on for the day.

I remember oyster stew on Fridays

I remember Mom reading our first books to us, “The Little Red Hen” and “Peter Rabbit”.

I remember using hand signals to drive.

I remember taking accordion lessons and wanting to be able to play “Lady of Spain”

I remember on Christmas that we could only open one gift before attending Mass.

I remember the year I learned there was no Santa Claus and had to keep the secret from Steve.

I remember how much I loved Mom’s pineapple-upside down cake.

I remember Dad saying the only two foods he didn’t like were parsnips and tomatoes, and that squirrel tasted greasy.

I remember that we always shared bedrooms. 

I remember Mom always said Dave “was like a long drink of water.”

I remember that when we lived with grandma, on weekends we would put the names of the chores to be done in a jar and each draw out our jobs for the day.

I remember that when we brought report cards home, Mom always looked at the conduct marks and effort first.  She said the most important thing to her were that we were good people.

As for posting to Northen News, Maya made the serendipitous discovery a week or so ago that if you already have an account with Blogger and I have sent you an invitation, Northen News will automatically pop up as one of the blogs that you can add to, so you can write a new one at any time.  If I didn’t send you an invitation, but you want to post on Blogger, let me know and I’ll send you one.  All, I’ll need is your email. Of course, you can always just leave a comment.