Hopefully I haven't told these stories already. I have written at length about being sick as a baby more than once. My only hope is that if I can't remember what I wrote in 987 blogs, then maybe no one else can either.
My granddaughter called today. It is always nice talking to her since we don't do it too often. She was talking about my last blog and said I looked like a little diva. That was a shock. I never thought of myself as a diva, but maybe I was back then. I did do things that would shock the people that know the person I became.
For example, I had the lead role in a performance of "The Little Red Hen". When I was in first grade, we did the play. Maybe the other grades did a play too, but I was focused on my special role. I practiced singing the lines accompanied with the piano. My mom's friend was an elementary school teacher and she helped me. We performed on stage at the local armory. It was a big deal. It was so big that I have no memory of it except practicing and how cold the teacher's hands were when she pinned the name on my dress. I guess we didn't have costumes. I draw a complete blank about anything else. We have no pictures of this special occasion but I am pretty sure I didn't dream it. I guess I shut down during difficult times even back then.
I do remember the story and part of the song.
"Cut, cut, cut cadacket said the little hen, see my little yellow chickens 8, 9, 10" and "then I will do it myself". That last statement was a bit of foreshadowing for my life. I still am not comfortable with asking for help and at my age, I really do need it.
The next thing that surprised her was that I took singing and piano lessons. She said maybe you are more like your grandchildren than you thought. I didn't go very far with these lessons because I didn't have the courage to perform in public but it did me well in college when I had to take music classes. That was not the case for my husband. Poor Mike couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. We used to play games in the car where he would hum a song, and I would try to guess it. I couldn't guess most of the time. His go to song was Country Road by John Denver and I usually got that right. He had to take music classes also and one professor actually had him stick his head down in the piano to try to mimic a sound. He practiced "Go Tell Aunt Rhody, the Old Gray Goose is Dead" on the piano many times in order to get a passing grade. Good thing they had music teachers when he actually became a teacher. I miss that side of my husband that very few people saw. He had his stern teacher look but was a softy on the inside and he sure loved his girls.
I sure wish I had pictures of this. The Danish side of my family was very musical. I know I have mentioned this before but my mom could play the piano by ear. She could hear a song and play it. Many of her siblings could do the same and sing along. Some had offers to be professionals. My grandpa had a lot of songs from the old country he would sing all the time. Maybe that's where two of my grandsons, Dylan and Jack got that talent from. They sing all the time. You always know where they are because they are singing. My daughters also love to sing and dance. I guess if you have the beat in your genes, it has to come out somehow.
Who knows what other memories will emerge. They say old people start remembering the past more than the present. Stay tuned, who knows what I will remember.













