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And Then My Life Changed
(Continued from "I Am That Child")
Childhood Part 1
It's always easier and quicker to revert to reductionism to tell a story. I could tell you here that as a child I was a tomboy. Or I could tell that I was a good little girl who tried to do everything right. Or I could tell that I loved horses and dreamed of them endlessly. Or I could tell you that I played with barbies and doll houses. Or I could tell you that I was riding a bike (without training wheels) at three and beginning my addiction to speed (not the substance...speed like fast...you know...!).
I could paint myself as the athletic kid, the obedient child, the girly girl, the dreamer or the tomboy.
Or I could just tell you that all these things - plus others - were true.
I think I had the best childhood possible. The worst thing that happened to me was that my mother would make come inside and take a bath. And even that wasn't bad once I was wet - cause the washcloth is a dolphin and the bar of soap is a ship and there are whirlpools and waterfalls!
I went to the Lutheran Church and was an angel in the Christmas nativity, which we held outside in the freezing cold Texas nights! I remember being ever so careful not to get hot chocolate on my white angel costume. I remember the song "Holy, Holy, Holy" and the taste of communion wafers and wine. I remember felt boards and felt sheep and singing the Don Williams song "I Believe in You" with a group that gathered before Sunday School. I have vague memories of the adults laughing at my enthusiatic singing - my very enthusiastic singing.
My parents bought me a jungle-gym when I was 5 or 6 years old. Before long I was doing flips off the monkey bars. It only took a little encouragement from the boy down the road to get me to build "ramps" and see how far I could jump my bike. The longest skidmark was also a proud accomplishment. Riding a wheelie was the envy of us both and we tried and became somewhat accomplished at this feat as well.
But almost every breath I took was colored with horses. Great, glorious horses - wild and strong, fast and powerful. Their manes tossing in the wind. Their breath coming out in columns of steam. And I ran like they did - wild through the woods. I loved to run fullout through parts of the woods that I didn't know, letting obstacles fly up in front of me and making split second decisions - jump over the thorn bush, duck under the limb, to the left of the tree, straight on through the creek.
Before long, I had my own horse. The sweet molasses smell of his breath and the green drool he'd leave on the front of my shirt when he rested his head on my shoulder were familiar and loved. Nothing about a horse stinks. Nothing at all. I think my favorite smell in the world is the smell of a barn - a horse barn. Cows stink. Most definitely.
I was a good girl. I wanted my mom to be pleased with me more than anything in the world. If she wanted to take a nap and needed me to sit quietly on the bed and read books for an hour, I would. I tried to do everything she wanted me to do.
I climbed trees. I played with dolls.
I loved books. I loved puzzles. I loved to color. I loved grilled cheese sandwiches. I loved my kitties and my puppy and my horse and my mom and my dad and my new baby sister and Jesus too.
And then my life changed.
posted by Headless-in-GR @ 1/06/2005 05:39:00 AM
Comments:
A horse isn't concerned with history or geneology, but with landscape and geology. Ahh...to be a horse!
OH -- in the DIRT!!!! hahaha Ya, those were the days. When it didn't hurt to fall so far and there was enough energy to go on for ever!
Can't wait for the next chapter!!!
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