Story of My Life: Introduction

The following is the start of the story of my life, written last year during a writing retreat. It is currently six pages long and tells my story up to about sixth grade. Below is the introduction. I do need to finish this and it shall be one of my 2024 goals.

Early memories of our lives are hard to define. Do I remember that event or are the photos in a photo album defining my memory? My earliest memories are from my fifth year.

I had scarlet fever while in kindergarten. Bits and pieces of memory about that time are the doctor coming to our house and nearly gagging me with that tongue depressor. I have hated that part of doctor’s appointments since. I think that our house was quarantined with a paper at the front door. I also remember my father bringing home Silly Putty, though I do not remember whether it was for this illness or another. But there are no other memories of the illness.

When I returned to school, I had extra milk to drink from when I was away. Perhaps my parents had pre-paid the milk allowance. Anyway, I disliked milk. At the time I probably could not articulate why I did not like to drink milk. It gave me stomach aches and I was likely lactose-intolerant, especially to cow’s milk, which was all that was available at the time. One of my younger siblings was allergic to some kind of milk and drank a different version of the formula that was darker in color.

So, there was this extra milk they were trying to get me to drink each day. The cartons were those made of wax-covered paper, square in shape with a flip cap. We had a small straw to suck out the milk. It was also too much liquid to drink in one setting. I do not remember how I settled the situation. Today I would find another classmate who wanted or needed to have the extra carton and quietly slip it to them.

I do not remember the teacher or her name, however, my baby book lists her name as Mrs. Billici. The kindergarten classroom was in a separate building from the primary school building that held grades one through five. Neither building is there today in Pittsburg; a housing development was built on that downtown property. My mother may have walked me to and from school, as it was just three blocks away. Kindergarten began in the fall of 1959 and by then there were three children: me, my brother, Steve, who was three, and my brother, Jonathan, nearly two. She also would have been pregnant with my sister Danna, who would be born in 1960. I can imagine the old large metal strollers. Jonathan would be seated, Steve standing on the back holding on to the back of the seat, and I probably walking along.

Memories are precious and the point of writing these down is to share with my family my life’s experiences and adventures. Luckily, I have photos and documents to help with the details of the memories. For my first four years, a baby book has many of the memories of my early childhood written by my mother.

What my mother wrote about my childhood diseases

#52Ancestors-Week 52: Me, Myself, and I

This is my sixth year working on this year-long prompt, hosted by Amy Johnson Crow (https://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/) at Generations Cafe. I write each week in one of my two blogs, either Mam-ma’s Southern Family or My Trails into the Past. I have enjoyed writing about my children’s ancestors in new and exciting ways.

Copyright © 2023 by Lisa S. Gorrell, My Trails into the Past. All Rights Reserved.