My first home (as I remember it)
My Real Memoir – Two Lives: Real and Realer (Imaginary)
From the Very Beginning…
I had two lives: real and realer (my imagination), probably because I was always alone. I was apparently daydreaming in the womb, staring at some pretty placental pictures, when the doctor announced, “He doesn’t want to come out. I’ll have to use force, er…forceps.” After he pried me out, he said, “Well, hope he’s a good’n, because you won’t have another.”
And so, you see it was my fault that I never acquired a sibling. Hence, my BFF was — and still is — my imagination. We gathered a lot of wool together, my imagination and I. Lying upside down on the old armchair in the garage. Traveling through Upsidedownland. Rappelling from the roof beams and soaring through the rafters. The latter, thanks to Grandpa, was because I could fly!
I Had Other Magical Powers Too
My tricycle made ice cream when I churned the pedals and chanted, “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.” Plus, I could transform my Radio Flyer wagon into anything I wanted: an airplane, a boat, a locomotive!
I was certain the neighbors watched in awe as I executed these amazing transformations. All except the Witch, the lady who’d had me arrested for turning myself into a Wild Indian. That happened so early on, I barely remembered it. Yet henceforth she forbade me to walk on “her” side of the street, under threat of having “Them” take me away “forever.” Result? The only time I was allowed to cross the street was when I passed the Witch’s house. In fact, my first two real friends Crazy Old Alice and Weird Eddie lived there in the land of TOSOTS (The Other Side of the Street).
Unfortunately, the Witch Also Had Powers
I found out when I was in Dreamland. Dreamland was my favorite place to visit. I could fly even better there than in Upsidedownland. But one night Dreamland felt scarier and less magical. The Hallway was wickedly dark and cold. Momandad’s room was dark and cold too, and empty, so I couldn’t run and hide under the covers between them!
Suddenly, the Witch was there in the Hallway with me! Only now she was ten feet tall and all see-through-y like a ghost! I tried to fly, but her powers were mightier than mine, and she stopped me! So I ran. But I could only run in place, and the Witch was getting nearer and nearer! Finally, she reached out and grabbed my shoulder with her monstrous, spindly fingers. They were the coldest thing I’d ever felt, and I was sure they’d turn me to ice! But they didn’t — they passed right through me. She couldn’t hold me!
And then, in a flash, Momandad were there. They could hold me! And they’d brought the light back with them. So you see, I was never really alone, I only thought I was. But thinking you’re alone…
Can be the scariest thing there is.
To read My Real Memoir from the start, click here. To read the next episode, click here.
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Smurf House.
I have not heard this since I was a child: “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.” 😊
😊
I actually have a book with the music and words to that song.
😊 Thank you for sharing. I never realised there was one.
When the person who said that to me as a child, I thought he was just being silly and having a laugh.
Liz, here is a link to a YouTube rendition of the song. It’s just kind of a fun song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNCTi7HwmYs&list=RDwNCTi7HwmYs&start_radio=1
Thank you. 😊
You are most welcome. Enjoy.
I enjoyed, thank you. 😊
Beautiful memories! 🌸
Thank you, Iman❣
Some aspects of this piece remind me of the movie Pan’s Labyrinth, though the young hero in that story had to overcome malevolence in even greater isolation. Do you remember how the ghastly creature sitting at the underground feast comes alive and chases her when she loses her self control for just one moment and eats just one tasty grape from the banquet? Yikes!
I can see that. Great film.
Yay, for an [over?]active imagination!!! Sounds like a gift, as is your writing. Great read!
Why, thank you, Sue!
You have a way of making even scary sound exciting! A born storyteller!
Thank you, Peggy!
I have always thought myself a loner, even in acrowd of people I know
I get that, Tom.
Great story.
Thank you, Donna.
One is never alone. God as the Spirit within oneself is always with oneself. Fear occurs when one forgets that. All one needs to do is to remember that one is never alone.
🧡
Nicely shared Mitch.
Thank you, T.
My pleasure.
Great story Mitch!
Thank you, Anne!
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So love this!
Why, thank you, Valerie!
This feels like a love letter to the child who survived by imagining, and to the adult who finally understands what that loneliness meant. Thank you for sharing it.
Thank you for getting that, my Anonymous friend!
You always surprise me with your stories, Mitch. I love them! 🙂
🧡
Good day Mitch and all.
Your post points more inly.
It’s a captivating tale of a solitary childhood, where imagination was a trusted friend and magic was real. Your narrative beautifully contrasts the vibrant inner world of “realer” with the stark reality of the “real” world, complete with a neighbourhood “Witch”. The shift in tone during the Dreamland sequence effectively conveys the trepidation or fear of isolation, only to be resolved by the tapping or comforting presence of family. It’s a poignant reminder that even when we feel most alone, connection can bring light and warmth. Your writing is evocative and paints a vivid picture of a child’s resilience and capacity for wonder.
I am on hand.
Thank you, Gemavie.
Mom and dads are wonderful possessions! Being all alone in this world must be terrifying for those who experience the loneliness. Happy evening. PS. Loved the icicles on your window photo.
Thank you, Anonymous friend.
i don’t think i saw, or don’t remember, how old you were at this point? in any case, vivid enough you remembered it?!
I’m not sure, Virginia. I think around 4 or 5.
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