The truth of my Childhood

Just a little story of my childhood, explaining what I think about when I hear childhood.

That day replays in my mind so vividly. My brother and I were playing flat-out. Not the right way, I mean we did not even race. We went backwards around the track, acting out our imaginary lives. The fun, though, was abruptly interrupted, when my mom came into our room, and asked us to go to her room. I was so glad she was home, because previously she was at the hospital with my dad. I walked into her room and i could sense something was wrong. My two older brothers were sitting on the bed. Their faces look as if they had been crying, and they had been. My mother began to talk with a slight crack in her voice. How could she ever tell her two young children, 7 and 8 at the time, that their father had passed away. Eventually she said it. I sat there wanting to cry, but at the same time I was unable to cry, because of the shock.

Before my father’s death, we had experienced so many good times, though. I remember one night, when I had my broken arm, I slept on the couch. He woke me up just to say that our movie was on, which was Lassie. That movie is still one of my favorites. I even have a Collie stuffed animal named Lassie. I also remember running up to my daddy when he got home and hugging him. My favorite memory, is when he sat in the recliner with a bowl of the POP cereal. I would run to the kitchen and grab a spoon and sit on his lap and share his cereal. Although, My all time favorite thing to do with my dad, was go to work with him. I remember several of those days. I got every single thing I wanted, because, well, to admit I was a spoiled brat.

Now, I think back to his funeral and all those memories, and wonder what it would have been like to have my father still here. I would not be the person I am today. My dream probably would not be a novelist. Nor, would I have the friends I have today.  am not really sure whether to call my childhood happy or sad. Well, because really it was not either. Every time I hear childhood, though, it brings my mind back to the death of my father, and the memories.