The year was 1968. The number one song on the Billboard charts was “This Guy’s In Love With You” by Herb Alpert. The U.S. president was Lyndon B. Johnson. The Vietnam War was still being fought, and the civil rights movement was going strong. Numerous activist groups made the headlines and many protesters were killed in anti-war demonstrations, racial and feminist demonstrations, and student led demonstrations on campus that year. Several key figures were also shot. Sadly, most of them died including Robert “Bobby” Kennedy, and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
In the mist of all the chaos, a fifteen year old girl gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Yep, you guessed it. That baby was Me. I didn’t have a perfect childhood, but I still have a lot of good memories, which is funny, because sometimes now, I can’t remember things that happened last week. Stress, I guess. It’ll kill you.
Any way, my oldest memory is of my mother giving me a bath in a huge white tub. She told me I was three years old then. I remember that same year I was messing around with her old Gene Autry guitar and told my Grandmother I wanted to write a song. She loved music and she always encouraged us to sing and play. She was always singing hymns, when she was working in the garden, or washing dishes, or cooking. As long as I can remember she made sure that we had musical instruments to play. So, she got a pencil and some paper and sat down with me and my sister and I began to “play” and “Sing” what I was feeling. Well, I THOUGHT I was playing and singing. My sister added her two cents and we wrote a song.
The song was about our younger sister who was just a month or so old when our Mother first brought her to see us. We had such a great time with her that day, but too soon, it came time for them to go. We had only known her for a few hours, but we already loved her. We were so sad when they left, and that’s when inspiration struck. “Bring My Baby Back Home, Bring My Baby Back Home, She’s So Pretty And We Love Her So Much….” That was the first part of the song. We WERE only three and two years old, but to me, it was a masterpiece.
The next oldest memory, I can’t really pinpoint a certain time, or what age I was, but I remember my Grandmother talking to us about Jesus and heaven. She didn’t have a car and she wouldn’t have known how to drive it if she had owned one, but she took us to church. She would have different people from church come by and give us a ride. She would read the Bible, and she taught us the importance of serving God and being ready for heaven at all times. She wasn’t perfect, but she loved God, and she sacrificed so much to make sure we had the things we needed. I praise the Lord for her influence in my life.
But, even with all her love and guidance growing up, I was far from perfect myself. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of, but, there were times I would have done a lot worse if not for the things she taught me. I had a good moral compass thanks to her. I was grown before I finally decided to follow Jesus, but I know I’m a Christian today because she introduced me to him.
Those are three of my oldest memories from my memory book. I hope when I’m old and senile, someone will read it to me and maybe give me a glimpse of a brighter time in my life.
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