D’s and my most recent adventures brought us up along Highway 1, close to Sonoma, to a little town called Jenner, CA. When we were there, we heard a story from an old man about how his earliest memories of his father were at Jenner beach when his father picked up a piece of driftwood, and brought it home. He said that piece of driftwood is now hanging above his fireplace at home on the east coast, and he had returned to Jenner just to recollect these precious old memories of his father.
|We saw that awesome looking rock out there with the hole through it, and both decided it was too bad we didn’t have SUPs (stand-up paddleboards) to get us out there so we could climb around!|
|As we were walking along the beach, we were both secretly searching for a special piece of driftwood to bring home. On the way, we found this huge fort built out of driftwood.|
|When I walked in here to find D already making himself comfortable, he looked up at me and said, “This is where we live now.”|
Look how at home he looks!
|These are the pieces of driftwood we found to remember our trip. 🙂|
But the story we heard from the old man also had us thinking of our earliest memories of our fathers. D thinks his earliest memories involve climbing the hill behind their house in Arizona together. What I believe to be my earliest (and what I know to be a true memory because there aren’t any home videos) is a combination of racing and football. We used to live in what I considered to be a magnificent house in the country, just outside of Versailles. I think it was my favorite house I ever lived in. I also think it might not be nearly as cool, and probably a lot smaller if I went back there now, since the last time I set foot in the place I was 8 years old. But for me, you couldn’t beat the big garden we had with corn stalks and pumpkins, and the back deck, and the huge yard with the big sandbox and swing set (which by the time we moved out I could proudly climb on top of, just like my big brother, M.)
Here’s a view of the backyard.
And there’s me on top of the monkey bars. A proud feat.
Anyways, I remember Dad used to set the football in the middle of the backyard, and that would be where Dad, M, and I would start our race. Then he would let me go first, then M, and then he would go. The first one to make it around the house and snatch up the football first, won! Then the other two would tackle the winner, I’m pretty sure. The reason I believe this to be of my earliest memories of my father is because I can remember being so small that my chubby little legs could barely carry me, and they just wouldn’t go as fast as I wanted them to go! I think I may have won the race around the house a couple of times, but now that I’m older, I’m pretty sure there was some serious cheating done by the other two in order to let me win. 🙂
|Dad must have gotten the football this time. 🙂|
|There was a lot of tackling in those days. 🙂|
I’m curious- what is your earliest memory of your father?