The Sandbox Writing Challenged #30 – Drawing A Blank

This was one of the more difficult Sandbox Writing Challenges. Lady Calen of Impromptu Promptlings, asks us this question:

If you were to give this baby something you lacked early in life, what would it be?

Early life… my grandpappy told me about that. No memory of it; don’t forget, that was 60 years ago, assuming that early life covers a five year period. I really have no notion what I had or did not have. Do I feel a sense of lacking from those days? No. I don’t feel a sense of anything. One of my earliest memories is of watching my brother go off to school, and wanting to go too, but being told that I could not. Knowing what I know now about how I felt about school once within the halls of learning, I in retrospect, I should have felt lucky. Of course, that one memory is not actually followed by what experiences I had in grammar school, as much as how I felt about school as I got into the higher grades of Junior High School and High School. Did I like 1st and 2nd and 3rd grade? I don’t know. I met my first heart throb in 3rd grade. I liked that for sure. But the process of learning and the specifics of going to school are very mirky.

I have been told that in those early years, of life in the neighborhood, I and a neighbor girl were apparently always following our older brothers around, who hung out together. Did I feel I lacked the fun and excitement of what the boys were doing? I don’t know. I don’t remember what they may have been doing.

I don’t recall the first time I didn’t like myself. I don’t think I was told I was ugly, the way my mother was when she was a girl. I don’t think I was told I was stupid. I believe we (my brother and I) were encouraged to read, and to be creative. My parents were very creative people. I’d say it goes without saying that we would both then be supported in our creative endevours. And I did find writing at a very young age, to be a way of expressing myself, that I thoroughly enjoyed.

Did I know fear? I can’t imagine a child that didn’t. Maybe I would give that little self the ability to accept life, accept the hand I was dealt. Maybe given that, I would not have grown into a mega-worry wart. I don’t see how a child could even grasp the concept of self-acceptance. But that might be what I needed. I know I did not accept myself as I grew into the pre-teen, then young adolscent years.

That’s all I have.