Isn't it amazing how life changes. The picture here on the left is of my Uncle Roger, who Died 12/23/2005. The little boy whose shoulder his hand rest on is his son and the above little girls daddy. For whatever reason my mind was playing this little game of where and when with me before I went to bed last night. It caused me a l
ittle bit of grief in trying to go to sleep. I imagine we all have nights like that though. What was going through my mind is how we miss someone so badly when they die. We long to see them and hear from them. Sometimes we even imagine them being there still. Life tries to prepare us for this in ways I wondered if anyone but myself has thought about. I mean the little boy in the picture with his dad is no longer really here even though he's still alive. He's a grown man with a family of his own, so in
essence the man who was the boy is here, but the little boy I remember is not. Same with any small child. Think about it. We get use to them being babies, then toddlers, then kids, then teens and then grown ups. Even though we get use to it and we know that these are the same people, deep inside there is a part of us that mourns for the loss of the baby, or child they once were. I do anyway. I don't think it's really anything we can help. I also believe parents especially probably go through this period of seeing their children as little kids even though they are all grown up. Isn't it amazing though how the event of simply growing up is prepa
ring us in a way on some
subconscious level for a time when that person may never be around anymore or others may not be around anymore. It's a cycle I was just wondering if anyone else had thought of or taken time to ponder. In the picture here to the right is my nephew Dakota. I remember this sweet innocent little boy in the photo. He could
never go anywhere without his favorite teddy bear. That bear and him were
inseparable. Teddy did have a few mishaps over the years though. Every thing from a dunk in the toilet to a ride in the good old washing machine. I also remember when teddy got a tear and I sewed it up. Dakota said I was putting a band aide on teddy. It was so sweet. It's hard to Believe he will be eight years old on November 26
Th.
This picture on the left is at my nieces second birthday I believe. (They say the memory is the first thing to go.) She loved the
attention. The white cake on the table was of a dog before she took a big bite out of it. She still loves attention today. It's very hard for me to believe she's going to be
five years old on October 18
Th. I have lots of fond memories of her, but I think the fact that we wondered if she was ever going to grow hair sticks out the most. Along with the mole I have on one side on one of my ears. She looked at the mole, then looked at the other side and saw there wasn't one and went - "Ought OH!" She thought I had lost the other one I suppose. The photo here on the right is of my niece and nephew last summer. Summer 2007. They have changed so much in just that last year that it's hard to believe.
In the picture here on the left the young man squatting on the front low left is my dad at age sixteen. In the picture below is my mother on the right. I'm really not sure how old she is in the picture. It's uncanny though how much my pictures as a child and Ashley's pictures look like her.
Either way I hope you've enjoyed my little trip down memory lane and the photos of my family. I suppose this would fall under the nostalgia part of my blog. Before I close out this blog though I want to leave you with a memory that my mind has wrapped around and holds dear and near after all these years. My friend Joe has a daughter named Tammy. Tammy has always been the sweetest little girl. In her preteen years she would sit and watch us play cards and sometimes she would play along. I remember that well, but there is one memory that I hold dear to my heart. Shortly after Joe's divorce he was house sitting for a friend out of Lake Avenue. He asked me if I would like to join him for dinner, as a friend. Joining he and I was his gorgeous two and a half year old or three year old little girl named Tammy. Little blond curls to die for. So there isn't a lot I remember about that evening, but the thing that sticks out in my mind is this little blond curly haired girl that kept me company. Joe had bought Tammy a single serving bag of Hershey Kisses. (I believe they had just come out with those.) Anyway she stood there by the table I was sitting out and took out the Hershey Kisses one by one and counted them as she did so. When she was done she put them back in the bag and started over, only she took up count where she left off. It was almost as if her childlike mind thought this way she had more candy. It is a memory that holds dear to me, although I have no pictures of Tammy from that time. I find myself wondering when Joe looks at this beautiful young lady that is all grown now if from time to time he doesn't see that little girl from that time and day. Thanks for the memories.
******************Katie West 2007*****************
Isn't it amazing how life changes. The picture here on the left is of my Uncle Roger, who Died 12/23/2005. The little boy whose shoulder his hand rest on is his son and the above little girls daddy. For whatever reason my mind was playing this little game of where and when with me before I went to bed last night. It caused me a little bit of grief in trying to go to sleep. I imagine we all have nights like that though. What was going through my mind is how we miss someone so badly when they die. We long to see them and hear from them. Sometimes we even imagine them being there still. Life tries to prepare us for this in ways I wondered if anyone but myself has thought about. I mean the little boy in the picture with his dad is no longer really here even though he's still alive. He's a grown man with a family of his own, so in essence the man who was the boy is here, but the little boy I remember is not. Same with any small child. Think about it. We get use to them being babies, then toddlers, then kids, then teens and then grown ups. Even though we get use to it and we know that these are the same people, deep inside there is a part of us that mourns for the loss of the baby, or child they once were. I do anyway. I don't think it's really anything we can help. I also believe parents especially probably go through this period of seeing their children as little kids even though they are all grown up. Isn't it amazing though how the event of simply growing up is prepa
ring us in a way on some subconscious level for a time when that person may never be around anymore or others may not be around anymore. It's a cycle I was just wondering if anyone else had thought of or taken time to ponder. In the picture here to the right is my nephew Dakota. I remember this sweet innocent little boy in the photo. He could never go anywhere without his favorite teddy bear. That bear and him were inseparable. Teddy did have a few mishaps over the years though. Every thing from a dunk in the toilet to a ride in the good old washing machine. I also remember when teddy got a tear and I sewed it up. Dakota said I was putting a band aide on teddy. It was so sweet. It's hard to Believe he will be eight years old on November 26Th.
This picture on the left is at my nieces second birthday I believe. (They say the memory is the first thing to go.) She loved the attention. The white cake on the table was of a dog before she took a big bite out of it. She still loves attention today. It's very hard for me to believe she's going to be
five years old on October 18Th. I have lots of fond memories of her, but I think the fact that we wondered if she was ever going to grow hair sticks out the most. Along with the mole I have on one side on one of my ears. She looked at the mole, then looked at the other side and saw there wasn't one and went - "Ought OH!" She thought I had lost the other one I suppose. The photo here on the right is of my niece and nephew last summer. Summer 2007. They have changed so much in just that last year that it's hard to believe.
In the picture here on the left the young man squatting on the front low left is my dad at age sixteen. In the picture below is my mother on the right. I'm really not sure how old she is in the picture. It's uncanny though how much my pictures as a child and Ashley's pictures look like her.
1 comment:
when you were young sheila you looked like your mom alot.
Post a Comment