Describe your earliest memories.
was adopted when I was six months old. I was an only child for five years when my parents were surprised to learn my mom was pregnant, at age 42. I don’t remember before my sister was born. I often wish I could . . . what it was like as an only child? How much they did just with me? How they had to learn to be parents overnight? I remember a black and white picture my parents had up for many years with me between my parents and I am holding on to my dad’s tie. I wish I could remember that time. I remember little stories they told. I just don’t remember the time. I hope my children remember when they were three and four years old. Remember how much they were loved . . . remember birthday parties and milestones we celebrated.
My earliest memory was sleeping at the neighbor’s house while my mom was having the baby. I remember laying down, with gum in my mouth and the neighbor lady put a dish on the nightstand so I could save it. And then, I remember my dad coming to wake me up and tell me about my sister. I don’t remember my sister as a little baby, but do remember the bottles they sterilized for her each day.
Sometimes I ache for things I cannot remember – and ache with the things I do remember, wishing I could forget. Yet, I know God knows . . . and puts the pieces together and makes good out of bad.
“One thing I do:
Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,
I press on toward the goal to win the prize
for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”