Earliest memory

I know I should be obsessively posting about Baby Darby but I feel like in order to do that, I need to also post ultrasound pictures. And posting images on my blog seems to me the most tedious aspect of updating my blog, so I will continue to procrastinate on that. In the meantime, I wrote this entry on another private blog that I have. It isn't too personal so I figured I would share it here (even though I am fairly certain that nobody ever comes here anymore since I dropped off for a couple of years and then made my comeback with an entry about Michael Jackson. =) Ah, well).

Okay, back to my earliest memory:

My earliest memory is of being given a bath in the kitchen sink at my Aunt Penny's house. In this memory, Aunt Penny is rinsing me off with the spray nozel and singing "You are my sunshine."

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You'll never know dear, how much I love you.
Please don't take my sunshine away."

Or she could have been singing another song.

"K-K-K-KELLY! Beautiful Kelly! You're the oh-oh-only one that I adore!
Wha-When the ma-moon shines, over the terrace
I'll be waiting at the k-k-kitchen door!"

A note about this song: The original song was not about Kelly. Indeed, it was about some girl named Katy. And according to a Google search, it was a First World War vintage song. And instead of the moon shining over the terrace, it was shining over a cowshed. http://www.firstworldwar.com/audio/katy.htm

Now, I don't really know if these songs were really sung to me in this memory in reality. I know that she sang them to me a alot (or it could have just been once and it sticks in my head - isn't it funny how memories are so imperfect?), so I could just be mixing up two memories. But that is my earliest memory. Aunt Penny was my great aunt. She was my mom's aunt - my grandmother's (Norma - my mom's mom) sister. She and Uncle William lived in Corpus Christi, Texas. I used to spend a lot of time with them down there. I loved it. My Aunt Penny adored me and I her. I remember she had kind of a high pitchy voice and a laugh that I am pretty sure could be heard on the other side of the world. I remember that she always had bubble gum and would keep a plastic bag attached to the gear shift in her car. I would take a piece of her bubble gum and throw the wrappers away there. I remember one time when we were driving down the road in her car and I decided to open the door while the car was moving. Oh man...that scared the you-know-what out of her. I think I thought it was funny, but I also remember her saying how bad it was that I did that, and thank God that I was wearing my seat belt. I don't think I understood the danger of what I did at that time, but I did not like her being upset with me. (Now, can you imagine if you were babysitting a kid that did that? Holy geez, I get scared just thinking about it).

Aunt Penny had a stroke in early 1995 and died on March 31 - the same day that Selena died and they both lived in Corpus. I don't know why I always remember that. I have a funny way of referencing events. Prior to that, I had only ever lost one loved one - Aunt Martha (Grandma Mary's sister). Martha died when I was too young to really comprehend the finality of death. I remember that it was hard, but I also remember expecting God to give her back to us. When Aunt Penny died, I was 15 and old enough to understand that she would not be coming back. There are no words to describe that feeling. This is a lady who I spent endless hours with. Her house was one of my homes. I felt more comfortable with her than with almost anyone (possibly with the exception of Grandma and Grandpa Foster). And she died too young.

I think back on the three big deaths of my youth - Aunt Martha, Aunt Penny and Grandpa Sam - and think what a shame that I didn't get to know these three individuals as an adult. Especially with Aunt Martha and Aunt Penny, I never did take the time to consider their mortality, which means that I never considered that I could lose them. On one hand, I believe that living this way helps us to live more freely and naturally. With Grandpa Sam, I can remember sitting with him working the puzzles and all of a sudden my mind would go to that horrible time in the unknown future when he would no longer be with me. My brain would turn to fuzz, my eyes would tear up, and I wouldn't be able to breathe. I was no longer able to enjoy just being with Grandpa. I had to grab on tight and close my eyes to try to make the moment last. But of course, the very definition of moments is that they are fleeting. Such were these moments. Too fleeting. Now whenever I smell bubblegum, I think of Aunt Penny. If I ride in a car and someone has a small trash bag with the handle cut out and hooked around the gear shift, I feel a little bit more at home. But I have never, ever heard another laugh like hers. It doesn't exist.