I honestly believe that I keep a journal-- this blog. While I may not share my most deep and dark secrets, I do keep track of life and some of the feelings I experience on a day-to-day basis.
On that note, I am supposed to be writing 5 short essays for my genealogy class. I plan on posting a few here. You don't have to comment-- you don't even have to read, but this is my way of being accountable to myself.
My parents’ divorce was final on March of 1991, just over 2 years after my birth. My dad remarried in May, and as far as I can tell, he and Ann immediately moved to Kirksville, Missouri. Kirksville is a small town in northeast Missouri. It’s a college town, and until the last decade, not much was going on there (My oldest sister Jordan moved there with my dad. She says they went to Walmart for fun on the weekends). This small city is the home to Truman State University, a fairly prestigious university, for Missouri, which may also be considered a “liberal arts” school.
Anyway, my Dad had some kind of a psychology or social work job. He, Ann, Jeff, Jordan, Jennifer, and Chris all lived there with the family dog Muffin. He was a very cute Miniature Schnauzer with a large lump on his throat,
They lived in a duplex next to a Doctor (note: he was black). When you walked in, there was a small hallway leading to the living room. To the right, off the living room was a very small kitchen. Through the kitchen, you could go downstairs. I can’t remember if the basement was finished or not. But I do remember sleeping there with my sister Maggie. Back upstairs. I think there were a couple of rooms and a bathroom off of the living room. But there were stairs too. Up the stairs led to a catwalk, which had rooms and bathrooms off of it. Behind the house was land. Lots of land. There was a small concrete patio with a large concrete molding of a frog sitting on it. The land was well taken care of, and there were houses all around. It just seemed like our house was the only one on the block. And the rest of our block was just land.
Today it is all developed. It all seemed enormous. I couldn’t believe this house was so huge. Now, I remember it was a duplex, so it probably wasn’t very large at all.
Keep in mind; I was like 2-5 yrs old while I lived there.
I have several memories from this house/time in my family’s life.
One of my first memories, in my life, took place while I ran around on the land (I was probably 2, maybe 3 at the oldest). I think all of us kids were out playing, or possibly working to take care of the land. It was a sunny, beautiful Saturday. My dad was mowing the lawn on his riding lawn-mower. I must have gotten bored, or felt unsure of where I should be, because as my Dad rode closer to me, I ran to him. I remember looking up at him. He was wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt. The sun was shining all around him. I saw him look back down at me. It was almost like there was a moment when we were trying to figure out what we were going to do. In one second, he swooped me up and I remained on his lap until all of the land was striped with perfectly straight mowing lines. The memory ends there. I imagine it’s because I felt comfortable and safe… and maybe I nodded off to sleep. Probably.