memories

this may be the opening chapter, still working on it

I have this recurring dream, it’s more of a vision really because I have it while I’m awake too.  I’m a small child, on my tricycle, I’m in the middle of the road and the sun is shining on my face.  My long hair was in banana curls, (my mother loved doing it up when I was small) and it’s blowing in the wind.  I can hear voices calling my name and I begin peddling furiously down this road, as fast as I can, away from the voices, and I’m giggling. 

        I’ve had this vision for as long as I can remember, I didn’t have a clue as to what it meant.  Until one day, while at my Aunt Marilyn’s cottage on the Cape, with my sister’s and our hubbies.   My sisters and my aunt were talking about days gone by.  “Do you remember this, do you remember that.”  I felt a little out of place, and just a little sad, I had no memories of those days at this cottage when I was young, at least I didn’t think so.   Sometimes my childhood is a blur.

       “Oh," my sister Debbie jumps in, “do you remember how upset Ma was when Marilyn Marie (My name, when we’re with our aunt, I’m her namesake) disappeared on her tricycle?”   Boom, all of a sudden, it became clear, “I remember, I remember, it was red and it had tassels coming out of the handlebars!”  Well, they just laughed. 

       “Marilyn Marie, you were only two or three years old, what in the world makes you think you can remember that far back?” she pointed out.  I kept insisting that I do remember.  I then shared my recurring vision with them.  More laughter, in fact, I thought that Debbie was going to pee her pants, especially after she started with that dreaded nose snort. 

       Barbie, my other older sister looks at me and asks “well then, do you remember going over the Bourne bridge and the car stalling?   Ma went to restart the car, but the keys were gone!  She couldn’t find them and was a hysterical when the police showed up!  You were sitting in the middle seat next to her.  She was trying to explain what was going on and all of a sudden, you pulled them out of your sock and yelled ‘look, look what I found mommy!’  Her face turned fifty shades of red that day and you got the boat shoe when we got home.”   I just looked at her, looked at my aunt, then back to Debbie.  “Now your just making things up, you’re not funny and I don’t think I did any such thing.”  Again, more laughing.

       On the way home that night, I still didn’t think their memories were all that funny.  Somedays, I would try desperately to float back through funny memories of my mother, searching endlessly in my mind’s eye, with always the same results, just not enough to go on.

                                *   *  *

Author's Note

this may work as my opening, not sure yet, still working on it.

Reviews

[CLH]

Whether or not you use it for an opening I will say what you have so far is great. It had me feeling emotions toward the subjects.