The memory is hazy. Perhaps because I was young then. Perhaps because it never really happened. Whatever the reason, I still remember the look in his eyes. I ran down the long hall, the large Phillips screwdriver clutched tightly in my seven-year-old fist. Back and forth between the two bedrooms at the end of the …
Tag: childhood memories
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Nov 16
The Paper Route
Carefully I took aim and threw the paper at the mat on the porch. It landed with a soft thud, barely heard, and I moved on to the next house. I did this several times before I was finished that day, and every day. I was eleven when I got the paper route. My mother …
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Oct 28
Tee-Ball
When I was about five, my dad gathered my sister, her friend, and me together, loaded us into the station wagon, and took us to play tee-ball. I had never played much ball before; my dad never really had the time, but he thought it was time we learned. I remember walking to the plate, …
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