for the week. Okay, so I'm truly not old, but 30 years of memories are a
lot to sift through to find "that one". From past experience though, I've
discovered that these topics pretty much offer us the ability to go in many
different directions. Given this, I've decided to expand on this just a
bit. Rather than writing about a memory that I actually have, I wanted to
write about a story that my parents love to tell. I don't really have any
memory of it myself, but I can absolutely see this happening.
As a child I really liked to climb. I had absolutely no fear of falling,
and the higher up I was the more I liked it. I'm quite a bit more cautious
these days, but I think in many ways I still like to climb. The age
difference between my oldest sibling and myself is twelve years. So, when I
was three, my oldest sister was fifteen and working on what all teenagers
want at that age; their drivers' license. A very common question around our
house was often, "Dad, can I back the car out of the garage?" Any chance to
be behind the wheel of the car was incredible.
At three, I of course wanted to be as cool as my older brothers and sisters
in any way possible. This meant making up homework assignments, (never mind
the fact that I couldn't really read at the time), pretending from time to
time that I had zits that needed treating, and of course, the never-ending
One day, my dad was doing some work out in our garage. I was out there with
him for whatever reason, and I got it into my head to ask him that one
burning question, "Can I back the car out of the garage?" Of course, for
many reasons, this was never going to happen in a million years, but I
didn't know that, nor did I probably even really care. After being told
that, no, I wouldn't be backing the car out of the garage, I found other
things to do to occupy myself.
While walking around the perimeter of the garage, I came across a ladder
leaning up against the wall. This ladder was calling to me, telling me that
I just had to climb it and see where it went. Being the incredibly
wonderful good-listening three-year-old that I was, I just had to listen to
that ladder and do what it said. A few minutes later when my dad realized
that I was too quiet, he asked me where I was. "I'm here", was my response.
He looked around and didn't see me. Again, he asked me where I was. Louder
this time, I said, "I'm here." He continued to look around and was still
unable to see where I was. So, for the third time, he asked me where I was.
Completely frustrated by this time, and apparently very indignant that he
couldn't find me I said, "I'm up here!!!!!" That's when my dad finally
looked up and saw me happily sitting on the rafters above the garage.
Apparently I wasn't concerned about falling or anything. I assume that I'd
crawled around up there exploring for a while, but I can't confirm this. My
dad was able to verbally guide me to the ladder and back down to the safety
of the ground.
My climbing continued to get me into interesting situations, (all supervised
after that), like the time that my dad was doing some repair work on our
roof and let me come up with him so that I could see for myself how the roof
of a house was constructed. Despite the fact that it was sloped, I didn't
fall, which is pretty obvious considering the fact that I'm sitting here
writing this today. I just found these kinds of things absolutely
fascinating, and it helped me to understand more easily what people were
talking about when it came to houses, and, as I got older, other things as
well. I think I had a lot of very interesting experiences, everything from
getting under foot during general house repairs to experiencing
pottery-making and wool spinning at local fairs. All these experiences, and
the ability to get to touch things, really gave me a greater understanding
of things around me, and how things work. Believe me, I'm much more
cautious now, and don't go climbing into unknown areas anymore, but I still
have that yearning for new experiences, new challenges, and new thrills.