This Picture

This is one of my favorite pictures of my mother. ( The favorite in my possession.) It makes me sad that I'm not in it. I think wouldn't it be wonderful if I was that child. It's not even one of my sisters. It's my cousin Kristy. Right before this picture was taken her mother was taken from the planet. I'm more grateful that my mother is still here and that I was priviledged to grow up with her than I am sad that I'm not in this picture. I've read in books that you remember the most things that happened around ten years old. I remember so much at the age of this period. I was age four. My mom's sister died. I had a surprise birthday party at McDonald's. I received my first Barbie. We went to California and met my mom's grandparents. One of each pair died shortly after our visits. I remember my great grandfather in their tiny kitchen. He blended butter and honey together and put it on bread. I had never had it before then. I have never forgotten that. I didn't know him, but I knew one thing about him other than what he looked like. I saw my great aunt Rebecca play the harp. It was so beautiful. I'll never hear the name Rebecca or hear a harp and not think of her. As a child I wondered why people didn't her Becky. As an adult I understand. I would hate it if people called me Nicky. This was the first time I saw palm trees in California and the beach. It was so pure then. I love that Kristy is wearing a get-along gang t-shirt which I loved at that age. I remember my mom's grandmother ( on my mother's father's side) went to play Bingo while we went to Toys-R-Us. I know she liked Bingo. I could type so much just on one picture. If you could know one thing about me without knowing me. What would it be? What is unique about me. I can't think of anything. I'm so close to myself. The closer you look the less you see. I just finished a book called Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I realized I could someday be a grandparent. The two books I read before this one had gardens in them. I got the garden bug and went and bought seeds. My dad went with me and gave me his own potting soil. He told me what to buy, what to plant, and how to prepare the beds. He told me it's about fishing time. Gardening and fishing are my dad's "things". I hope I'm not associated with that. He owns that. What if my great grandfather's father owned butter and honey? I hope not because he took it. My father's father smelled like listerine that he left his dentures in while sleeping on the bottom of my bunk bed.My father's mother was very sick the lat time I can remember her. She had a tv in the corner of the room and didn't get out of bed. In their home I remember brown bananas and pecan prailine cookies by Sandies. They had a closet in the front room filled with toys and I ate their candy corns. Candy corns, Sandies,and brown bananas reminds me of my dad's parents.