Freudian Root

My earliest childhood memory may be a moment with my mother or a moment with my brother – not sure so I’ll go with my brother.

My family and neighbors told lots of stories about me “wandering” away.  Like most, I’d learned to play peek-a-boo before I was able to walk.  A valuable survival tip.

From the time I learned to walk I found places to hide.  When I learned to escape, I’d run to the neighbors houses, open their doors, wander in, join their families in whatever they were doing. When on vacation, I’d get into strangers laps, cars etc…  My only memory of this is crawling up on the lap of an older person in a wheelchair and snuggling in deep.

I think my earliest memory is of my brother Danny finding me.  I must have been a toddler because I remember my clunky white hand-me-down toddler shoes. I must have been behind a chair or in a corner of some kind.  I wasn’t very well hidden.  I recall my brother’s kind face, his hand taking mine, which is when I saw my clunky shoes, he wiped my tears and in that adorable toddler voice said, “Don’t cry!”

I believe this act of grace made it possible for me to believe and hold onto the hope of a loving Father in heaven.

Psalm 6:9
The LORD has heard my cry for mercy; the LORD accepts my prayer.


2 thoughts on “Freudian Root

  1. Pingback: TORNADO MEMORIES? « hastywords

  2. Pingback: Childhood Revisited: From Kids Town to Hell town | Lisa's Kansa Muse

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