As I mentioned in my last post, I recently traveled to New York to visit my cousin Ray, his wife Fran, and his two young adult sons, Ben, and Ethan. I got to meet and spend time with Ethan’s girlfriend Deanna as a special bonus attraction. It was a wonderful time. We spent a lot of time enjoying fun activities together, talking, laughing, eating, and bonding. All that was amazing. I could not have asked for a better experience. My family were so generous with their time, love, and energy. What was even more amazing than this marathon of joviality, though, were the feelings that the experience evoked in me.
My family was so generous. It was not just a financial thing. They lavished time, energy, and love on me. I felt so protected and taken care of. I don’t know if they all really enjoyed being with me as much as they appeared to, but, if not, they pretended really well. I suppose it is possible that, once I left, they said to each other, “Thank God that is over,” but I don’t think so. It felt like a new chapter in each other’s lives for all of us. For me, the time felt saturated with preciousness. It is hard to even explain the bond. It was a bond that, in some ways, should not even exist because of distance in geography, time, and the busyness of life. I have always remained in contact with them, and we have shared some heavy and happy moments, but I have not always put in the intentional effort to earn the bond that I was happy to discover still exists.
In addition to creating memories during my time with them, I recovered some interesting memories. I remembered things I didn’t even know I knew.
I spent the first five years of my life in Deer Park, on Long Island. My parents did exactly what they were supposed to do when they had a baby. Within six weeks of my birth, they moved from an apartment in the Bronx to a house in the suburbs. We lived there until I was five years old, at which time we unexpectedly moved to California in conjunction with my father’s job transfer. You would not think I would remember much about my life in New York, but experiences and feelings came flooding back.
One evening, Ray drove me to Deer Park, the town where I spent those five years. I remembered street names; Carlls Path, Jefferson- they sounded familiar. I had some recollection of my address in Deer Park and the addresses of some family members. I did not get them exactly right, but I was not far off, and I absolutely remembered the houses when I saw them, sixty years of time and renovation later. As we drove down the streets, I knew what side of the street to look to find the houses for which we were searching. I remembered some specific events. For instance, I remembered some sort of celebration when my whole extended family was in our house. It might have been a birthday party. I remember laughter and a certain amount of chaos because of the number of over-sugared children. I remember jumping on the sofa and I remember my aunt giving me a silver dollar. It was the most bizarre feeling.
Even more, I remembered what it felt like to live in those houses. I could feel laughter, fun, community, connection, family, and stability. I think I somehow lost a lot of that mood memory over the years. After we moved to California, my nuclear family was a closed ecosystem. My mother, father, brother, and I were largely self-contained. We did not entertain. I don’t really remember my family having a social network. This was before the days of cell phones. In fact, long-distance calls on land lines were expensive and we only called New York a couple of times a year. There was no texting or Facebook. There were photos, but they were not of great quality and there was no way to share them except by sending prints in the mail. I do, of course, remember fun, happy times with lots of laughter in my family in California, but they were small and intimate. I think I may have lost any skill or comfort I had with social interaction that I learned early on in the context of a large extended family.
Just being with Ray and his family also highlighted that. Their house, yard, and garden felt familiar deep inside me, even though I had never been there. It felt like a life I used to have as a small child. With the six of us together, there was a different kind of energy- an incredibly positive energy- and I let it sweep me up into its vortex. Instead of avoiding it, as I would typically try to do, I wrapped myself in it and participated.
There was another experience I had, too. Ray reminds me so much of my father. Watching Ray with his young adult sons during my time with them, I heard things that I thought could have come from my father’s mouth. There was a lot of teasing and joking and some frustration. The thing is, I also heard patience, guidance, and true parenting. He was definitely cultivating his children. I think, when I look back at my memories of my father, I think I may not have absorbed the patience, pride, guidance, and true parenting. I think some of that was likely there, even though what resonates in the front of my memory of my father is more the joking, teasing, and frustration. Even if the patience, guidance, and true parenting were not there, I could see in Ray what my father wanted to be. I think Ray is simply better at implementation than my father was. I think seeing this dynamic in action helped me understand and appreciate my father. It helped me to rejoice in my father’s loving motivation instead of focusing on sometimes hurtful experiences.
I have one more observation about the trip down memory lane I took during my trip. The house I lived in for five years was up for sale. It was listed for $723,000. I know my parents spent less than $20,000 on that new construction home in 1959. That means the house has increased in value by nearly $11,000 per year. The house has certainly appreciated more than I have.
What memories do you have of your life as a child? Are you sometimes surprised by the things you remember, even after decades have passed? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.
Have a memorable day!
Terri/Dorry 😊