For days, I delved into letters and cards dating from 1923 to the early 1990s. I discovered much about people I thought I knew. For example, my mother. Boy did she have a lot of beaus in college, and I thought she was overlooked.
And my grandmother. I knew she had a quiet family wedding. Her father disapproved because she was nineteen. However, I didn’t know the marriage surprised neighbors and extended family.
While a preschooler, my sister was more creative and skilled than she remembered. Once, she pantomimed multiple musical instruments.
Of course, I learned about myself. I wish I had a video of sixteen-month-old Mollie laughing and clapping 30 minutes straight at her older sister’s birthday celebration. Or fetching her jacket later that day and saying, “Want to go.” The answer to trick or treating with her sister was “No.”
I wish I remembered three-year-old Mollie being taught whole, half, quarter, and eighth notes by her five-year-old sister. Or her four-year-old thoughts when she said, “Write Grandmommy that I’m drawing her the silliest picture.”
Unremembered childhood events feel like a lost self.
Do you long for memories of events you have heard about?