Whew! I am not one to complain--I've got enough anglo/english/danish/viking pioneer/farmer/cowboy stock . . . "stiff upper lip" blood . . . such that, well, not one to complain or whine. So I'm not.
Plus, have pretty much been on my own since born. So, I got tough, living in the bushes, loose around the mountain neighborhood neighbors' backyards. I was about 4-5 years old . . . and what I remember from that time . . . was living at my grandparents' home up on the mountain, with my near-same-age aunts and uncle in the house. But I was an early "latch-key kid." My orig. parents got divorced when I was 3, then my mom become an early "single working mom" -- my dad was in California. So, I was in Salt Lake City, at my grandparents house. They were Mormon, so I was sort of an embarrassment to their community, being a result of a failed marriage circa early 60s.
ANYWAY... I was pretty much left to roam ( I kind of think they were hoping I'd fall off a cliff somewhere, or get bit by a snake) but I survived. I did once fall off their balcony (among other dangerous scrapes) looking into a bucket full of nails (grandpa was a construction worker contractor Foreman who helped build THE "CHURCH OFFICE BUILDING" -- iconic main headquarters of the LDS church downtown Salt Lake) . . . (which I went to several times later as a 15 yr. old to go through their famous genealogical library, sitting there for hours looking through old family record notebooks and microfiche.. because, well, I've always loved history and original sources and it was fascinating to me . . . to walk down the half mile of mountain, and stroll in and find my way to my family records--I made it back to Sweden, Denmark 1600s)...
ANYWAY... yeah . . . I fell off the balconey looking at a nail bucket . . . a friend neighbor girl, "Elizabeth?" I think was there . . . we were about 4-5 yrs old, just out and about in the neighborhood... It was about a 15 foot drop. I somehow landed NOT on the cement wall of the neighbors, but in the weeds and wood below. Elizabeth went and told my grandma that something happened.
Next thing I remember is laying on the small blue sofa in my grandparents' kitchen/dining room area (which house overlooked the valley of Salt Lake City) . . and my grandma was sitting at the dining room table there typing away on her old typewriter. I came to consciousness, looked at and noticed that I had blood coming out of my fingernails, ... .she kept typing away, typing a letter to someone.... Then I went back to rest.....
Turned out, about 2 or 3 months later, my mom (who wasn't around much) noticed that I kept yelping when putting on a coat or sweater... that I had a broken collar bone... But by then it had sorta healed, so, oh well.
Heh. Just reminiscing. Ya get old . . . and find you can remember things better now than then, although I've actually never forgot that whole sequence.
Then there several other neglected things.... wild mouth cankers, worms, . . . No worries, everybody was about their business, and I was like a feral animal let alone to wander the woods, and I did, and got tough and developed a tolerance for pain and survival, ingenuity and also digging being a part of nature, getting to know the bugs and plants and animals that I came across, making forts in the bushes, wandering about (within an otherwise safe social neighborhood). . . .
WHICH, lol, brings me to my (NOT COMPLAINING!) mention of getting old pains. I always hesitate to even mention, because I know many--indeed, I know and see and empathize with many I come into contact with via longtime work clients, acquaintances etc., who also . . . are either already dead, or getting pummeled the last few years. . . .
I have no complaints. I am grateful for every breathe . . . every moment of given life, even in this fallen, degenerate world. Well, and lol, turns out I'm not going to complain about new, outta-the-blue, (probably just old age) aches and pains and teeth and this and that :)
Grateful for another day to battle through.
Just reminiscing and sharing, fwiw. . . :)
2 comments:
Great to hear all this. I grew up rural and from around 4 years old I spent most of my time hanging by the creek all day as I was fascinated with flood kind of waters. In summer it was building forts and little bush houses that I would furnish with any kind of interesting junk I could find. I would wake up so excited on weekends and rush out the door when I remembered my 'project" lol. I was so happy alone in my thoughts and observations, I miss that feeling of childhood adventure as this world tries to grinds it out of you.
Also being hit with bad aches and pains and my darn teeth. :( Sorry to hear it, but at least it is comforting to know others are going through the same stuff. Gotta be stoic! But it is really annoying.
God Speed
Steven.
Always good, Bro T, to acknowledge the Truth of this life and how He brings you thru.
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