Memory Lane

Day 3 of my 150 Best Self Edison Deck Challenge: On this holiday weekend, our prompt is taking us on a journey to the past: Childhood memories you should share with loved ones. The goal is to take 10 minutes and come up with 10 memories. In full disclosure, I don't believe in sharing everything that's in my life, heart, or head in a public forum. Some of my memories could indeed become future blog posts, some memories deserve to be private, and some are reminders of how childhood shapes who we are and who we still will become. Here is my trip down memory lane:

1. Summer always brings memories of "lake life." The tangy powdered sugar of lemon coolers served with Pepsi and tuna fish sandwiches on the dock, bikinis, the smell of Coppertone suntan oil, the brace of cold lake water as you dive off the dock, barbecues, the musty air of the cabin being opened for the season, and the art of dodging bats as they skim the water during a clandestine late night swim.

2. I was first visited by translucent floaters as a young child, squiggly forms floating around the bedroom as I looked out the window waiting for naptime to end. I imagined they were fairies, sent to protect and lift me out of boredom. As an adult, if you see me squint my eyes tightly in a sunlit room, I may just be summoning my fairies.

3. The bet on who will marry first.

4. How I became a cat doula or how Alex the cat followed me home and became Alexis.

5. How my cobalt blue Schwinn ten-speed bicycle, orange Panapet 70 Panasonic radio, and a children's Supertouch typewriter continue to shape how I see the world. My Schwinn gave me freedom to expand my horizons and to explore in style, my portable transistor radio connected me to Casey Kasem's American Top 40 and to new genres of music and voices beyond the suburbs, and I continue to thank Santa for the typewriter that helped put my invisible thoughts and ideas on paper.

6. The building of "Gold Town" by the girls in the neighborhood was an early lesson in what it means to be female. One of the girls' dads helped us build forts in a pine treed empty lot connected by bike paths. Gold Town included a currency system, code of conduct, and even had a jail. I ran the store/library. Our experiment lasted a few weeks until the boys in the neighborhood dismantled our efforts and destroyed the structures. It made us into the righteous women we are today, still fighting for representation, equality, and power.

7. Grandpa's workshop and attic. Some secrets need to be told.

8. The summer my dad rescued my younger cousin from domestic abuse. To see first hand the brutality, senselessness, and effect of physical force on an innocent child changed my view on what it means to be an advocate. Bruises and fractures may heal, but one's psyche still carry those dark memories and scars. It takes all of us, the scarred, the untouched, and/or the innocent bystander to help heal and protect the child.

9. Pine River Park in the 1970s - a weird combination of suburban families, hippie culture, rope swings, and strong currents. That's where I learned to swim, fighting stroke by stroke to reach the other side. And it was my final destination where I ran aground the day I appropriated someone's abandoned dugout canoe for a summer adventure.

10. TV culture may be quirky, but the world according to "Gilligan's Island", "Dark Shadows", and "Star Trek" taught me some important life lessons: there is both Shakespeare (Hamlet the musical) and opera (set to the music of "Carmen") if you find yourself on an abandoned island (Season 3, Episode 4); knowing how to fend off vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and witches comes in handy in adulthood; and if one alien world gets too dangerous, make sure you have an engineer (Scotty) to beam you up, a doctor (Dr. McCoy) to find the perfect antidote, a voice of reason to find a solution (Spock), a captain that has a heart (Kirk), and for me, perhaps the most important, a woman to translate (Uhura) what it all really means.

And since every memory should have a soundtrack, here you go: