30th Birthday Think Back: Part 1 "0 to 5"

Lets see… where do I begin?

How about at the beginning. This is a little bit of cheating since I don’t remember the beginning at all. I’ll share a quick situation or two that I heard about my birth. Since I make up the rules I find it okay that these are not memories.

First off, May 18^th, 1981. I imagine that the city of Edmonton has awoken to a lovely Spring morning. The city is rather lovely this time of year. Though there was more to this specific day; it was Victoria Day. This is a holiday in Canada. So, as people were heading back home from the cabin or home from the festivities downtown, I was brewing.

What time of day was I born? I think it is around 10:15pm, if I remember correctly. I have been told that there were a few interesting complications to the whole deal. Nothing serious, but worth noting.

On Victoria Day they ran waterfalls off of the High level bridge. It’s a piping system that takes tap water up to the top of the bridge and sprays it down into the river, like a waterfall. This bridge connects the North and the South side of the city. The hospital I was born at is located several blocks north of the bridge. I am told that my doctor was on the south side of the city when he got the call and had a heck of a time getting across the city with all of the holiday festivities, particularly the waterfall. I think he made it in the end, but not by much.

Also, when I was born I apparently had a little tangle with the umbilical cord. It was wrapped around my neck, perhaps in a tussle over it’s refusal to leave the cozy confines of my mother’s womb. Can I personify my umbilical cord?

Anyways, I was a little blue coming out. Partly because the world is a strange place and partly because I had this cord wrapped around me. Though, in the end, I made it. Now my feet and hands get cold very easily. Is there a connection there?

-Memories-

My first memory has got to be around the age of 2. I know that there is a photo of me and my dad on my 2^nd birthday, so that could come into play here, but still I remember sitting his lap in front of a plate full of cupcakes. They were in the formation of a giant 2. This is my first memory, literally as far as I can remember.

We lived on the farm. In a trailer across the yard from Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I remember playing in the yard, sometimes getting to go into the cool house where the chickens lived. Though I remember not feeling safe on my own in there.

Bryce had a little yellow bike with wooden block pedals on it. He would do pop-a-wheelies, or someone older than us would come over and do them and Bryce and I were fairly impressed by it.

Bryce and I spent most of our time together on the farm. He had a birthday party when we lived in the trailer and it snowed a lot that week so we made giant snowmen with all of the kids he had invited over for it. I remember doing this again a few years later at our house in Stony Plain.

One day, Bryce and I, and I think our cousin Mike were near the driveway. This is when we lived in the house on the farm and Grandma and Grandpa had already moved to Stony Plain. There was a gopher hole. Mike and I dared Bryce to put his hand in the gopher hole, not knowing that Dad had put a gopher trap down there. The trap bit down on his finger, Bryce screamed a very bloody murder, and Dad, who must have been in the back yard, hurdled over the picket fence all in one motion. Like an Olympian. I remember being distracted from my interest in Bryce’s pain and the look of his finger by Dad’s amazing leap over the fence. If Miles or Jonas were ever in a situation like that, I wonder if I could leap out of our 10 story window and float down to rescue them.

One day I woke up in my brown metal framed bed and went downstairs for breakfast. Bryce looked at me and asked me why my one eye was closed. I thought that that was strange because I didn’t notice it being closed. I guess I had an infection. I needed to go to the hospital over night. The vivid memory is that while we were getting ready to go to the hospital I remember seeing my clothes that were laid out on the footstool in the living room. I’m not sure if I knew at that point that I was going to be spending the night in a scary hospital.

Behind Grandma and Grandpa’s house was a smaller house in the trees next to the road. I remember the pine smell that radiated around the yard. In that house lived Great Grandpa Frey. He was born in August of 1899. His name was August. I am glad that my name isn’t May. Grandpa Frey gave me my first harmonica. He called it a mouth organ. The box it came in had electrical tape to hold it together. Now, I have 2 little boys who always love to steal my harmonicas and wail the tar out of them.

This cool cat is brought to you by a great great grandfather

So, now I must be about 3 or 4. I think that this might be around the time we moved to Stony Plain. Maybe it was 1985 or 1986. I remember going into our new house in town and watching mom paint the walls. Not very interesting, but I remember it.

By now, Bryce was going to Kindergarten at Stony Plain Elementary. For Halloween, mom thought that it would be cool to dress me up as a clown. I remember having a Jonas type fit about it and I think that I waited outside for mom to be done with the party. There were ants on a log, though. The peanut butter kind. I also had a good picture of me sulking in my clown outfit, but I gave it to my high school girlfriend so it’s probably long gone. For shame.

It gets interesting when I talk about my bedroom. It was the first room on the left upstairs, just past the closet where mom and dad kept all of their coats. Mom also kept her camera with the big flash up on the shelf in there. But I remember my room.

I must have been 4 or 5 when I thought that it would be cool to pee in the corner of my room; right behind the closet door. The bathroom sat right across from my room but for some reason it seemed like I could save a little time by just peeing in my room. Soon, there must have been a smell, but I bet it didn’t bother me much. I’m sure that it bothered my mom. Boy, I sure hope that she’s not just learning about this now.

Mom and dad would read us stories before bed. I remember the one about the Rabbit, Brier Rabbit or something. A friend and I were just talking about that the other day. Looking back on it, that book seemed a little racist.

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So, what can I learn from this? For one, I had the great experience of living in the country and a town before the age of 5. That is probably something that allowed me to appreciate the rural and urban parts of living. I’m not a big farm guy, but I like how everything is laid out in the yard and the farmer goes from place to place, doing his chores. Just like the song.

I went to the hospital for the first time. There are also the numerous vaccination shots that we needed to get every couple of months. The nurse would tell us to look up at a funny picture on the wall. I guess that hospitals might induce vivid memories. I feel bed for those kids that spend their whole childhood in those places. No matter how many friendly people and cool things there are in those places they are all distractions from the real reason why they are there.

It’s a cool realization that Great Grandpa Frey got me going in music. Specifically the harmonica. I love playing it with the guitar. It’s one of my favorite hobbies. Thanks, Grandpa Frey!

So, there it is. I’m sure that I could sit around and recall a few more things but it’s already gone on long enough.

One final note. I bet my mom remembers everything. I bet dad remembers a lot about my childhood, too. It’s amazing that I can only remember a handful of things. Why does it take so long for our memories to kick in? Perhaps to save us from a lot of heartache. I mean, Jonas cries about a lot of things these days. At those moments he must consider himself to be the most miserable kid in the world. I guess it takes time for them to realize that they are pretty blessed to have us as parents. As they begin to understand that, their memories start to solidify that stuff in their minds. It’s kind of a form of grace. We can screw up as parents, or be upset that we might think that our kid hates us, but we need to remember that they won’t remember that much about it!

Tomorrow we move into the next round of memories, 5 to 10 years of age.