• The boys and I

  • A Little ‘Bout Me

    I’m 44, married and live in a sewerless small town on the central coast of California. I am an Inflammatory Breast Cancer survivor. My passions are reading, knowledge, shopping and photography – in varying order depending upon my mood. Though I’ve always wanted to be really good at something, I find that I’m just pretty good at most things. I live with my husband, Daddy-O, and our sons, Ben and Danny who are 10 and 5. Ben has ADHD and enough natural energy to power the Pacific Time Zone… and he’s not afraid to use it. Danny has Norries – a rare genetic disease causing him to be born blind. It’s a crazy, hectic life but I can’t complain any more than usual.
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Fact or fiction?

Thanks for the nice comments about my last post. You know. That particular memory of the Christmas tree delivered by Santa is one of the strongest from my childhood. And one of the warmest. I clearly remember hearing the sleigh bells, trying to push my way around the tree to get a glimpse at the fleeing red coat, feeling the prick of the pine needles and the unbelievable thrill in a pre-Christmas visit from Santa himself. It made my Christmas. It cemented my Belief for a lifetime. Other details of the day are fuzzy but have become clearer in my minds eye through the many, many retellings.

My mom read my blog last night. Low and behold, many details of that day were fuzzy it seems. For instance, I was 4 not 7. It was in Los Angeles before we moved up north and there was neither snow nor reindeer and sleigh tracks. However, the rest was pretty accurate. It seems I’ve merged several memories together into one. I hate it when that happens.

Does this ever happen to you? What do you do when presented with evidence contrary to a childhood memory? I’m not talking things like DNA proof here. That stuff is important. But stories handed down from adults to children, told and retold? Or your own stories you’ve told from your child’s-eye view only to find the adult-eye view made the story completely different? Do you abandon your long-held, often retold story in favor of the historically accurate version? Or do you stick with the original telling, facts be damned?


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