We may be backed in a corner, but we’re heading the right way.
As I walked through an airport terminal last week, I observed a photograph of a celebrity from childhood. As I thought about the photo, I wondered what place childhood held for that celebrity. Was it just a phase to get through, a stage understood as a catalyst, or a magical time revered, treasured, and protected from oblivion through frequent returns?
I then thought about the importance of my own childhood and the place it holds in my present. Is it the equivalent of a tattered tissue in a side pocket of a jacket, carried along without much thought, or is it more like a lucky buckeye in that pocket, intentionally kept for its mythical impact on the present and the future?
Everyone’s childhood has joys and sorrows. Flannery O’Connor stated that anyone who has survived childhood has enough stories to write about for the rest of his life. It’s perhaps the richest mine of experience. And memory is so malleable, I have to understand that what I’m remembering may be one version of the truth. Several years ago my siblings and I produced About As Much Fun as a Child Could Have: A Shell Collection, a book of childhood memories as a gift for our parents. We found that some of us remembered conflicting details of a single event. We left them in, all different. The truth is in there somewhere!
So I’m saying that I highly value my childhood, I’m grateful for it, the good and the bad, and I find much comfort in recalling those innocent days. The excitement of riding my bike farther than I’d ever been before. The delight of holidays with my cousins and extended family. The contentment of quiet Sunday evening suppers, with each member so relaxed in the setting that we didn’t have to clutter the space with conversation. The security of hearing my parents discussing the day after I was tucked in bed.
I address all females as “girls” with the highest connotation. Perhaps some are offended by being called a girl. I hope I’m always considered a girl; I would much rather be thought of as a girl than a woman or a lady. My father’s frequent saying, “The past is a great friend but a lousy roommate,” speaks to the importance of keeping things in proportion. But it’s always good for me to spend time with great friends.
What does childhood mean to you?