My favorite childhood memory would have to be a visit from my sister after her death. I was a small little girl and very sick. I remember seeing her hovering over me as I lay. A small Angel with wings and curly blond hair. At that time I did not under stand as I do today. I honestly believe that she wanted to take me to her new home so that we could play. I resisted and turned my head. Something that I regret until this very day. No matter whether dream or reality, it felt the same to me. REAL!

At the top of the lane where i lived was a 5 bar gate with a steeply sloping field behind it usually filled with cows but in winter time it was a wonderful sledging slope. 1962 was a very heavy snowfall winter and one day my entire family wrapped up warm and went to the sledging slope. At the top of the hill grandpa who was very frail had one of his terrible chesty coughing attacks and we were worried that cold would get to him and he would not survive so mum insisted - there and then she rubbed his chest and back with goose grease - he went downhill quite fast after that!
When i was a lad we didn't have good good times. Times were hard! When it was really cold my dad would suck an extra strong mint and we would all sit round his tongue to get warm.

Watching fireworks on the 4th of July,
Family, my brothers, sister and I.
On a blanket, on the front lawn.
Sipping lemonade and eating popcorn.
We could feel the reports against our chests,
One favorite memory, I like best.
After the show, we would stretch and stand,
Go and catch fireflies with our hands.

I hold only bits and pieces of a childhood spent mostly in dissociation, out of body, escaping the trauma of a terribly dysfunctional, abusive family situation. Being on the fringes of the autism spectrum and one of five siblings, I wasn't able to handle all the chaos and abuse.
Outside of falling down some concrete stairs chipping a tooth, and protecting a kid who was being bullied, nothing much of the grammar school years remains.
My main memory is of climbing to the top of every tree in the neighborhood. I was convinced that I must be an alien trapped on the wrong planet, and maybe I was trying to get back home, or as near to it as I could get. It was not a pleasant childhood, but it is the one I chose and I have no regrets. For better or for worse, it served to help make me who I am at this point in my journey.

Going to the beach with my cousins - like brothers
We would play and sneak away from our mothers
A little mischief we sometimes caused
which put our play time on a pause
Our moms would scream and yell
we would laugh and think "oh well"
Those were happy times, we were stress-free
I'd like to go back- just my cousins and me!

I remember that gap in the hedge between Billingham's field and the out-of-bounds reservoir -
- taking my little brother on walk- lead before he turned four had become a hindrance. Pals were around enjoying fun so I dodged the job, left baby brother in the meadow gorging his Smarties and went through that hole to play at boats.. For but a few moments I followed the trails left by rudders and sails then dawdled back to find him caught up in bog-water-games. Reins tangled in twigs he was up to his ears in mud and grinning. Cuddling a frog he had found in a soil- filled puddle he wanted to take his roily chum home. Tears followed pleas as I cleaned slimy fingers and promised waiting ice cream if he did not tell tales out of school. Leaving a toddler was a blot on my copybook but when I think of his grubby face I still have to chuckle. Mum never knew he would that afternoon have swapped me for a frog if he could.

I grew up at the edge a very small town and most of my favorite memories involve very rural things and I have a thousand different memories of equal value . Loved running through the corn fields when the corn was higher than your head , you had to be careful as the leaves could cut you like real large paper cuts . If we'd run far enough we would come to a fenced in field where a bull was kept and there'd be bets and boast about running across the field and not being afraid . I made the run at least once a summer and so did my pals usually the bull didn't really seem to care but sometimes he'd run at you and your heart would beat so hard ... we all made it through that and many more ...

At first, i could not think of a single favorite childhood memory. So traumatic. But then I remembered Christmas. Whether at moms house or dads house, Christmas Day was a time when all fighting ceased. At least until noon or thereabouts. It was a time of joy. We were poor and people gave and helped us. And I guess those Christmases are what helped me hold on through those years. The hope and the love that still follows me through today.

I was sat on the sofa watching the television
And my dog was relaxing in front of the warm fire place.
Suddenly from out of nowhere there leaped a little kitten!
And the dog jumped up in fright
And the kitten ran away.
The dog and the cat later became best friends.
I guess somethings they just make you smile...
The end.

My father had decided my family would road trip all the civil war battle fields on the east coast.
We stopped at bulls run,
we stopped at antietam,
We stopped,
and we stopped,
until we found a field.
The green grass of this Pennsylvania field struck me.
For only 150 years earlier they had used the blood of brothers to fertilize it.
My father reached down grabbed a fistful of dirt and recited the Gettysburg Address,
We spent the day wondering the hallowed ground only to jump in the car and stop and stop some more.


  • Accidental Poet

    Wonderful memories Kat My fav is the first one of your sister's visit. I've always wanted a visit from my birth mother, but as yet I've still not had that experience. But I know I'll be with her again same as you and your sister will be together again. ; )

  • Kat

    Thanks to all who shared their memories as a child. I enjoyed reading them very much!!

  • Mugsdaddy

    Sorry I didn't get in on this one but it was a nice read. Thanks Kat

    • Kat

      We can do another. Sorry!

    • Edward Charles McDevitt

      Kat, that was awesome! I know I'm a little late but, my favorite childhood memory is of my Grandmother Ozmun making homemade noodles!!!!

      • Kat

        Np just, glad you joined in!!

      To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.