My mom did not drive, so she had to walk to the grocery store, and carry back the bags of groceries. Since I was the youngest, and not in school yet, she brought me along. I rode in a wagon alone on the way over. On the way back, I had the company of a bag or two of groceries. I thought of the wagon as being for me, but I think it was more for her. At the time, I was happy just rolling along. I remember there was a pickle barrel in the store. I thought it must be full of pickles. Later, I was disappointed to find out that only a small part of it actually held any pickles. Not that I liked pickles, but I liked the idea of the pickle barrel being full of them. The store also had a butcher that cut the meat for you and ground the beef for hamburgers right while you watched. I remember seeing all this. At the time, it all seemed just the way it should be.
I remember a birthday at this house and a Christmas. The birthday is very vague. I got model race car that my father had to put together. That was always fun. He did not have much patience for things that required instructions. Christmas became famous as the one where we almost caught Santa in a Santa trap. The trap looked like a typical bear trap, but it was made of plastic. We set it into the fire grate in our fireplace, where Santa would be sure to step when he came down the chimney. In the morning, we went out to see the gifts, and there was a note from Santa scolding us for almost catching him. We knew it had to be real because there was a ripped scrap of red material caught in the jaws of the trap. He must not have been too mad since he left us presents anyway. Not that I remember what that consisted of at this point. My parents could be creative, and fun once in a while. They just did not always know how to show that side of themselves to us.
Much later on, before their divorce, but after mine, they were living back in Utah. For some reason, they got the idea in their heads that we all would be coming out to see them for Christmas. They decorated the house like they used to, for our upcoming visit. They even got out some of our old childhood toys they were saving for their grandchildren and wrapped them to put under the tree. The problem is that none of us knew this was going on. I think my brother and sister were at least financially able to have made the trip if they had planned to, and could get the time off. I had the time off because I was not employed at the time, but I had no way to get there. No money to do a bus or train, and no car in condition to make the trip. Thinking about them going to the trouble of decorating for this visit they assumed at least one of us would make, is a bit sad. But, that is how things went sometimes. All of those toys they had saved and carted around had been intended for their grandchildren. All of that was eventually either given to others or lost later on along with the home movies and a substantial collection of slides and other pictures of all of us growing up. All of it was gone; so much for boring my future kids with old pictures of daddy growing up. Not that I have kids, but if I did . . . As a result of this I do not have much from this part of my life to show anyone who is now important to me.
Memory is the Key 