My childhood was probably the typical childhood. I didn't have any terrible things happen to me except moving to other states. If that is the worst I can think of, then it was a good childhood.
I am the oldest child in my family. I am also the only girl with 3 younger brothers. Growing up, I was the one who was asked to help around the house, watch my brothers, be responsible sometimes more than my brothers. I was often extremely shy, preferring to just remain in the confines of my room reading than being out with the family during summer days where I didn't have to go to school.
My parents were Christian...very, very Christian. Both ordained ministers, my father is highly educated in theology. He, too, was and still is a bookworm. My mother, on the other hand, was the fix-it person in our household. If a toilet was broken, door needed to be fixed, or car needed to be worked on it was not out of her character to attempt these fixes on her own. She always had christian church music playing in our kitchen. I remember always feeling awkward growing up. While I was the only girl, I often felt overshadowed by my brothers. Being sensitive, I often felt left out when my mom would do fun activities with them that were not my sort of fun at the time. I would have rather eaten snails than go camping or fishing with them.
My earliest memories are from living in Cortez, Colorado before turning 2. From there, I have memories of my grandparents' house when we moved to Greeley / Eaton, Colorado. My true indication of viewing the world, paying attention, and being able to remember things occurred while living in Wichita, Kansas at age 4, in Pampa, TX from age 5-8, and Scottsdale, AZ from 8-12. This is where I started school, learned how other families lived, and what other families did.
My brothers and I typically got along. There is 2 years between myself and my brother Richie, 5 years between myself and my brother Robbie, and 7 years between myself and my brother Ray. When I left home for college, my brothers were still in elementary school except Richie. They have memories of things that happened after I left home -those moments I missed out on and hear about later wondering where I was. They were good kids for the most part. When we were little, my brother Richie and I would play "coffee" instead of tea, or Barbies (until the neighborhood kids told him boys didn't play with Ken dolls). But as we grew older I was no longer interested in doing the same activities they were doing.
Living in Wichita has broken, dream-like memories. I remember the house we lived in, our neighbors, the church we went to. I remember the day my brother Robbie was born, where my dad worked, and small pieces of what happened while we were there.
We lived in Pampa during the early 1980's. Pampa was a very small, and at times an unforgiving town, in the panhandle of Texas. Unforgiving in that if you were from somewhere else, they only preferred people from Texas. Since I was not born in Texas, did not tote the Lone Star flag around, and talk with an accent upon arriving, I stuck out like a sore thumb. This was the time where Michael Jackson was on the radio, MTV had just started, Smurfs was a top cartoon, and movies like Poltergeist came out. My parents (mostly my mother) did not condone us watching or listening to those things, so I would go to my best friend's house to see them. I remember watching Luke and Laura get married on General Hospital with my mom (for those who watched soap operas - this was THE event). My first movie I ever saw in the theater "Annie." The next movie I saw in the theater happened days after my youngest brother was born - Snow White. Legwarmers made a big fashion statement, and I had my own light purple pair that I proudly wore. When Cabbage Patch Kids were introduced to the world and you could not buy one anywhere my mother decided to start making me dolls to compensate. These dolls became my friends, sisters, babies, and everything in between when others were not available to play with me. We were not rich, but we had the things we needed.
The neighborhood we lived in was unique in that there was a mixture of different sized houses, the church my dad pastored was next door, and a few doors down was a run-down house that all the kids in the neighborhood called the "Haunted House." Looking back, it was just dilapidated, but to a kid it was very possible that ghosts could be roaming the halls. Summers were filled with vacation bible schools at other churches where my parents knew the pastors. Richie and I would play a game called "Sit on the tack" based on a song called "Joy, joy, joy." Lyrics go: "...and if the devil doesn't like it he can sit on a tack." My brother and I thought this was really funny, so we would attempt bravery to sit on a tack - a task neither of us thankfully accomplished.
We moved to Scottsdale, Arizona when I was entering the 3rd grade in 1984. Richie, having known only the flat plains of Texas for most his life, was awestruck by the mountains that surround the new place we would be living. When starting school that fall I learned quickly that using words like "ya'll" or "ain't" was not as universal as it was in Texas. Kids would ask me about my accent - to which I wondered what an accent was? Didn't everyone have a little twang when talking? To this day, I will find my southern drawl if talking to or visiting states of Texas to Florida.
The Scottsdale I moved to is not the Scottsdale that exists now. Downtown Scottsdale was not filled with nightclubs but galleries of southwestern art and jewelry stores. We would take the trolley to different scenic spots of the town, which included a resort with a waterfall. Summers were hot, but I was too young to know it was hot for some reason. That would come years later. Working in Scottsdale now is like revisiting my childhood every day. I drive by the park we would have birthday parties, the location of where my old elementary school was located before closing. The Scottsdale of my youth included being able to go to the park by myself, the mall with friends, or the convenience store after school.
Scottsdale was such a different universe from Pampa. It was not only different for how the landscape looked but also the people, thinking patterns, and for the first time we also lived near family since moving from Colorado. One of the reasons we moved to Scottsdale was due to my aunt, Mary, and her 2 kids living here. My life was surrounded by parents, brothers, aunt, cousins, and church family. 2 of the 4 years we lived here I had friends at school but we didn't live in the same neighborhood to play.During those years we lived in a house on church property, so our play area was huge. We had a soccer field, playground, lots of room to ride bikes. The other 2 years we lived in a neighborhood across from a high school, and down the road from our elementary school.
This was around the time of Mary Lou Retton and the Summer Olympics, Cyndi Lauper and Madonna. It was the first time other than when watching Michael Jackson "Thriller" and "Beat It" videos that I fell in love with music. I remember wanting to grow up and be Debbie Gibson or Tiffany. I thought Tom Cruise was the cutest guy around. I still liked to play with my Barbies and dolls. I was old enough eventually to watch other people's children and get paid. I wanted to wear heels, and be an adult. The summer before I went into 5th grade I visited my aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandmother in Houston. Before heading back to Arizona I visited my great-aunt, Naomi, in Austin. She took me all over town, shopping, and woke me up early one morning to watch Prince Andrew and Fergie get married on television.
My core group of friends in 5th and 6th grade was very strong, very united. We all got along; there was no crowd of nerds or jocks. Sure, we had a few kids we didn't want to talk to, but that was the rare exception to the rule. When having my friends spend the night we always "snuck" out of the house to walk around the high school across the street from my house. We had birthday parties where we tried to learn the dance moves to Janet Jackson, or eat as many pop-rocks before our tongue became raw. We would go to the park and play all day at the Rec center or in the ramada areas where the ducks and row boats were located. I had wanted to play flute since I was small, but in playing the flute in 5th grade I realized I didn't exactly enjoy playing. I then switched to play the viola. I loved playing that stringed instrument, hearing the sound I could produce, learning how to hold the instrument and create beautiful music.
While I didn't know it was hot in the summer, or maybe just don't remember, I do remember going to the swimming pool often. My mom would load us up in the car, attempt the pool with 4 kids on her own. My brother Richie and I would play games while the 2 younger babies would stay with my mom. We spent much time with my aunt and her kids. Truth be told, I couldn't stand those moments. My aunt was difficult to be around, her kids were spoiled and not afraid to display all their toys in front of us as a way of hoping to induce jealousy. There were many times I would have rather sat at home, alone, than to spend time with those 3. There were many situations that, looking back, were just not great. It never feels good to have an adult talk down to you on the things you do not have. Or for your cousins to make you feel less than because their dad bought them something. Their father lived in Oregon, and his method of showing love was by providing physical items rather than nurturing them.
Moving from Scottsdale was the hardest transition for me. We moved the summer before I entered junior high. At this time in my life, I was so confused about all the changes going on with me not only physically, but emotionally. Couple that with moving to a new place where you know no one makes for a very unhappy person. I acted out. My friends and I tried to do things that would make my parents realize moving was not a good idea. Only problem with that was, my parents didn't think my leaving school at lunch to go to the mall was a method for staying in Scottsdale. Life after moving is for another post, though.
My father has told me recently he wishes he was a better father for us during my childhood. I really don't understand where he is coming from. In looking back on my childhood, and in thinking about the moments we shared with my dad, I never felt like he was not there. I never felt he was doing a bad job. He was my dad, working hard for our family. My parents rarely argued, and if they did we never saw it. My dad was always there for me if I needed to talk to him. He was always the parent I wanted to talk to if something was bothering me. I knew he did the best he could. In the end, isn't that all you can do? Your best? I wouldn't trade or change anything that happened during the first 12 years I was alive. And true, maybe I look at things in a different light now than I did then. But I was blessed with the parents I have, the brothers I have, and the memories from this time.
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