Quiet time can sure make my mind run amok.
There are days I cant focus on one thing long enough to write about it.
During the day I think of all kinds of stuff I could have shared. I need to keep a notebook of those I guess.
Of course you are seeing the first draft. I don’t make sure the punctuation, spelling, or grammar is perfect. I type as I think. You are experiencing Lorene unfiltered.
I’ve been thinking about my childhood lately.
I don’t remember a lot, bits and pieces here and there. I’ve even thought about a hypnotist to help find what or why I cant remember. It could be my age, but it’s been like this forever.
I could always run for President, they would have a dossier on me pretty quick. 🤣🤣
In all seriousness, I have questions.
My mom would be the one to answer them, but she isn’t here anymore.
When I was young, I want to say between 8 and 12 years old, I would go to Key West during the summer and stay with my grandparents. I also remember a time I went to Tennessee and stayed with one of my moms sisters. My sister was 2 years younger than me, but she never went. Just me.
I don’t remember when I stopped going. I can barely remember how I got there. I seem to remember a Greyhound bus, but never a plane.
As an adult I wonder why my sister was never allowed to go, and was I just being sent away? I wasn’t a trouble child. I walked a pretty straight line when I was preteen. I would do anything to make my parents proud of me.
Still make decisions with them in mind.
There are so many holes in my memories they must look like swiss cheese. A part of me is afraid to know what I’m missing.
There are things that will trigger a memory. Kind of like when you see something, or someone says something that reminds you of the dream you had last night.
I remember somethings that I write about in private. Not on here, not yet. They seem more like dreams than memories. Some nightmares actually. Real or not I moved past them. Tucked them far away, covered them with good memories. They sneak out once in a while and I have to face them and then push them back again.
Don’t take this the wrong way, I had a great childhood. Two very loving parents. They taught me right from wrong. We were NOT the Cleaver family nor the Manson family, not perfect, but a family.
I never needed for anything.
I feel like I’m writing a book here now and my coffee cup is empty. I need much more to get this day going.
Thanks for reading, don’t hesitate to tell me any memories from my childhood you may remember, good or bad. PM me if its sensitive.
I love you all, friends, family and those who just need outside prayers. Have a wonderful day.
And yes, that’s me, the strawberry blond cutie with Mom, Dad and sister Angie.
Lorene
