I'll be honest, I don't remember a whole lot about my childhood. My mother-in-law and grandmother-in-law were talking today about what they learned in kindergarten. Y'all I couldn't tell you what my teachers name was to save my life. What I do remember comes to me in flashes, rarely full memories. I remember specific events rather than a whole time period.
My mom is going through all of our pictures and working with my grandma to put them in organized albums. Yesterday I was at her house and 'helped' her (she yelled at me for getting them out of order..ha ha)remove the rubber cement off of the photos. I can't explain the feeling that came over me to look at all of these pictures of ME when I was a little girl. It was like my life, spread out on my sisters bed. And even with the pictures, I couldn't remember how I felt or what I thought or what my favorite cartoon was or who my best friend was. But, it made me feel connected...to myself...to my past. As if my life was coming full circle right before my eyes.