Week2 Day 4

I've been thinking alot about what my childhood was like. Up until the age of 4 or so, I guess that it was all pretty normal. Around 4 my Dad got hurt. I do remember a lot of things changing.

He was working for his Dad in the construction business, digging ditches, that kind of thing. Dropped is watch into one of the ditches, and when he went in to get it the backhoe driver didn't see him, the backhoe when it was lowered caught him in the neck/back region. Broke his neck.

From then on, all I really remember about him, is he was in and out of hospitals right up until the day he passed away 5 years ago.

I remember a traction device being hung in the one doorway of our house and being the little brain that I was, I thought we were having a baby, looked like a jonny jump up.

We lived in a 3 bedroom home in Redwood Falls, yellow with a big yard and always a dog in the kennel. It had one of the coolest things in it that from a child's viewpoint was almost magical. It had a laundry chute in my parents bedroom. Can you imagine, no dirty clothes piled up in baskets anywhere! I've always wanted one, but first I would have to have a house with a basement.

We also had a big sand box out in the back, lots of neighbors with kids our age to play with everyday. We were always at someones house. I think it was more to do with the fact that we weren't allowed to play in the house. On rainy days we could go into the basement and fool around. Just a big cement room, nothing fancy.

One year for Easter, Dad had gotten me a baby duck, Squeaky. He would sit on my shoulders or comic books, depending on what I was doing. Not sure where he was at night. Squeakly died, we buried him in the sandbox. Who knows what else was out there.

There was always something to do. We tried walking on stilts, chasing bats, having fun in kiddie pools, except one kid had this really big above ground pool, spent a lot of time there. There was even an implement dealer not too far from us. We were not allowed there. Didn't stop my brother and cousin from playing on the stuff. Not until Mike ended up having to have stitches in his head from falling either on or off of one the things.

He wasn't the only one requiring stitches. My other cousin and I were goofing off, needless to say, he threw a rock towards me, thought I would actually catch it. Well, I guess I did, just not with my hands. Hit me in the forehead and also had to have stitches. Screamed alot, remember that. After the stitches were in, Dad did buy me a box of chocolates, said it was for being so good at the Dr's.

The sweet and bittersweet memories. There are a lot more, they will come up later.

Think about this: Without childhood memories, how do we have anything to compare the new ones make to?