Week 25: Earliest

     I tell you, these writing prompts have really got my brain working overtime trying to come up with topics to write that are not too much of the same thing or about the same ancestor. When thinking about this week's prompt, "Earliest", there is only one thing that keeps popping into my mind that I feel compelled to write about. This post isn't going to be about my earliest ancestor, my earliest photo, or really anything to do with my ancestors at all. I am going to write about me and MY earliest memory from when I was a child.
     A lot of people can't really pinpoint their earliest memory from their life. They may have scattered memories, but can't determine the actual age they were. Well, after talking with my mom about a particular memory, she was able to help me know how old I was for this memory. I was only 2 years old. And this memory while it is just a fragment, it has left a lasting impression on me. Enough apparently that I still remember it 35 years later.
     I was born in 1982, the only child of my parents, Dennis & Maggie. We lived in a one bedroom, one bath house, with an eat-in kitchen, and living room. I have lots of photos from growing up in that house and quite a few memories. For the first two years of my life, it was only my dad, my mom and me. But then something changed in 1984. We were going to have someone else living with us in that little house. My Papa was going to come live with us. He lived with us until the time I was 13 years old, then he moved in with my Aunt Patty. So for most of my life, he was a big part of it. For as long as I can remember, he has always been there.
     My Papa had to come live with us because he couldn't take care of himself anymore. His wife, my grandma had passed away in 1980, and he was just a mess without her. He had a severe alcohol addiction, and it was literally killing him. It got to the point, he was hospitalized and family was told, he would have to live with someone who could watch over him and make sure he would never have another drink again. That's where my earliest memory comes in.
     I remember sitting in my car seat in the back of our car. Vaguely, I remember my mom crying to someone about the situation. I don't know who she was talking to. But I just remember feeling sad, scared and wanting to hug my mom, but I couldn't because I was strapped into my car seat. My mom was feeling overwhelmed because my dad had decided we were going to take Papa in and take care of him. More accurately, mom was going to have to take care of him since dad worked and she was a stay at home wife. We were very tight on money as it was, and we had a very small house. Papa was going to have to sleep on the fold out couch in our living room. I shared the bedroom with my parents. Not only that, but mom babysat 4 other kids to try to make some extra money. So five kids, and now an elderly father-in-law with help problems. No wonder my mom was crying and scared.
     Don't get me wrong, I was happy to have my papa with us all the time. I loved spending time with him and I have lots of wonderful memories with him. But I know it was so hard and stressful on my mom and dad. And even years later, I still remember that moment in my life where things changed. We all do our best with the lot we've been given in lot and try to make the best decisions for our family. I've learned that through the years having my own family. I've wondered how much my daughter will remember about her younger years. We also had our struggles, just like every family. But going through what I have as a kid, I try my best to make sure my daughter has good memories in her life because you never know what will stick in their minds 35 years later.

My Papa and I - 1983

I was just over a year old