Memoirs

This is not a chronicle nor a diary.  It's just what I remember.  Memory is faulty.  I've discussed some events with family and friends and their input is a help but even there group memory may be faulty.

I used to think that my earliest memories were from when we lived at 7 Hawker Street in Dayton Ohio.  I visited that house in 1997 when I went back to Ohio for my high school reunion.  The street hadn't really changed and it was the same house but i realized that something was wrong.  It didn't line up with what I remembered.  There was no alley in back.  The porch was different.  In particular, It was supposed to be two doors down from the corner, with a trolley bus line on the passing street.

Later, in chatting it with my sister, she asked "Did you go by the Catherine Street house?  It's still there."!!  Given ;that I only lived in two houses before we left Dayton, I assume my early memories must be from that house and my sister's description fitted.  Until, and if, I ever get back there to check, most of my Dayton memories are probably from Catherine Street.  Recently however, I looked at Catherine street on Google street view and it appears that all of the residences are gone.

In the beginning

 

Earache

My earliest memories are of pain and my mother sitting on me so she could put stuff in my ear for a chronic earache.  It was way before wonder drugs and treatment was crude.  I'm told that I had the problem for eighteen months.   I remember the pain and the all of the memories sort of mush into one.  I think I was a year and a half or 2 years old at the time.

An odd memory popped up and I wasn't sure of it but it seemed that I associated the pain with my mother and slowly began to withdraw from her.  A vague picture of lying with her sort of appeared in my mind.

I decided to talk it over with mom and see what she remembered.  I told her what seemed to have happened.  My idea was to see if I could figure out why we were at arms length and maybe make us closer.  I got an unexpected answer.

Mom sort of looked as if she were watching memories and told me about living with Aunt Ag and Uncle Herb.  Nobody liked him.  He seemed mean to us.  He was mean!  He also abused mom!  That explains a lot about mom and her manner with us.  We all agree that she was never mean and always took good care of us (and we loved her).

I never got an answer about my earache.  Mom and Joreen described it as awful to deal with and awful for me.  Beyond one memory, I can't say.  What I can say is that the memory is a whole body one.  I remember being held down and sat upon, I remember the oil going in and it ends there.  I'm told it was the only way to do it.  Knowing mom and her care and methods, I believe it.  If there had been another way, she would have used it.

Mom

Mom went escalator diving at Harrah's Tahoe one morning before brunch (the old farts' rush hour).  She banged her head but was otherwise OK.  Or so we thought.  She slowly went downhill from there.  I believe that she suffered from an edema caused by the fall.  It's also known as water on the brain.  By the time I came across an item on that, it was years later and too late for Mom.  She died unhappy in a nursing home.  She ate some plastic flowers and it killed her.  We all believe she knew what she was doing and did it as a way out.  I never visited her at that facility and regret that I didn't and am relieved that I didn't.  No farewell.

Cigar Tree

Lunch in the Tree

Alley and Trash Pickers

Easyrider Trike

Maxie Protects Us