1978-1980: The smell of gardenias. Hours in our pool. Falling off the Muellers' trampoline. Street baseball. Watching for gators near the neighborhood lagoon, even though no one had ever actually seen one. Falling out of the big magnolia tree in the vacant lot and begging the neighbor kids to not tell my mom. "Grease" being the word. Returning the foul ball to the concession stand for a free Coke. Waterskiing on a dreamy, glassy Choctawhatchee Bay, singing Olivia Newton-John's "Magic", but not loud enough to be heard by anyone. Pong at Stephanie Jacobsen's house, (the first home video game I had ever seen), quickly addicted, the face of my childhood hardening.
Lisa, I'm so sorry I didn't reply to this. You commented on the day I first got sick with the virus that became a 6-week nightmare. I love the so very different, yet so very similar touchstones of your childhood. Grease! OMG. And we were really into Barry Manilow for some reason, too. And Pong. The next door neighbors had it on the giant console TV in their basement playroom, the only house that had it!
Ah, thank you, Anne. I feel funny saying this, but I hoped to stimulate feelings of terror. It's sure what we were all feeling on many levels and in our own ways.
This one definitely got me. I was reminded of childhood fun in the city streets in a neighborhood of many children - and then abruptly reminded of why I rarely felt safe. There are sadly too many histories of children who met evil in our home bases. I was in a different state but remember a different girl appearing on our news and trying to tune it out. You capture that horror and turn in innocence so fully and poignantly. I had to stop and catch my breath on that scarecrow line, just breathe a moment… These are things that stick for life and you unpacked it well. Hug that 11 year old Kelly Jean!
Thank you, Tina! I hope I did the truth justice, but as always, writing about one's life is so tricky. I appreciate you reading and your thoughtful comment. Writing this felt like a big hug for her.
I mean, it's also horrifying, don't get me wrong, but the writing is beautiful. And the pre-Mary Lou childhood is classic. And even the break in Eden is kind of classic, alas.
Thank you, Becca - it was such a wild ride writing this. It's a story I've been trying to get at in so many ways for so many years. I like the way this turned out. The break in Eden, indeed. Boy, Feb 2 is a long time ago already. That was the day I fell so sick. So happy to be emerging and working on a new piece. ♥️
So many of these elements snapped me back into a different time. Childhood was so different for me than my children. Your writing is impeccable.
Thanks for reading, friend. Same. Same. Same. It's stunning how different. I so loved aspects of my childhood. ♥️
1978-1980: The smell of gardenias. Hours in our pool. Falling off the Muellers' trampoline. Street baseball. Watching for gators near the neighborhood lagoon, even though no one had ever actually seen one. Falling out of the big magnolia tree in the vacant lot and begging the neighbor kids to not tell my mom. "Grease" being the word. Returning the foul ball to the concession stand for a free Coke. Waterskiing on a dreamy, glassy Choctawhatchee Bay, singing Olivia Newton-John's "Magic", but not loud enough to be heard by anyone. Pong at Stephanie Jacobsen's house, (the first home video game I had ever seen), quickly addicted, the face of my childhood hardening.
Lisa, I'm so sorry I didn't reply to this. You commented on the day I first got sick with the virus that became a 6-week nightmare. I love the so very different, yet so very similar touchstones of your childhood. Grease! OMG. And we were really into Barry Manilow for some reason, too. And Pong. The next door neighbors had it on the giant console TV in their basement playroom, the only house that had it!
Oh my gosh, Kelly! You are a fantastic writer. You should be published. I didn't want that story to end!
Thank you for reading, Laura! I'm slowly working toward that goal. :)
Beautiful and haunting, Kelly. So visceral and sensory! Bravo!
Thank you for reading, dear Kristie. 💗
Such vibrancy in your writing, as ever. I could see it all because you painted it beautifully for all of us. <333
Mwah! Thank you, love.
Gobsmacked and terrified is how you left me after such an amazing description of ore-pubescent summer. Beautifully written as always.
Ah, thank you, Anne. I feel funny saying this, but I hoped to stimulate feelings of terror. It's sure what we were all feeling on many levels and in our own ways.
This one definitely got me. I was reminded of childhood fun in the city streets in a neighborhood of many children - and then abruptly reminded of why I rarely felt safe. There are sadly too many histories of children who met evil in our home bases. I was in a different state but remember a different girl appearing on our news and trying to tune it out. You capture that horror and turn in innocence so fully and poignantly. I had to stop and catch my breath on that scarecrow line, just breathe a moment… These are things that stick for life and you unpacked it well. Hug that 11 year old Kelly Jean!
Thank you, Tina! I hope I did the truth justice, but as always, writing about one's life is so tricky. I appreciate you reading and your thoughtful comment. Writing this felt like a big hug for her.
This is beautiful. You had such a classic childhood (I did not).
I mean, it's also horrifying, don't get me wrong, but the writing is beautiful. And the pre-Mary Lou childhood is classic. And even the break in Eden is kind of classic, alas.
Thank you, Becca - it was such a wild ride writing this. It's a story I've been trying to get at in so many ways for so many years. I like the way this turned out. The break in Eden, indeed. Boy, Feb 2 is a long time ago already. That was the day I fell so sick. So happy to be emerging and working on a new piece. ♥️