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When I think back to the days when I was a child, I think about all of my wonderful childhood memories. Often I wish to go back, back to that point in life when everything seemed simpler. Sometimes I think about it too much, knowing I cannot return. Yet there is still one place I can count on to take me back to that state of mind, my grandparent’s house and the land I love so much. Their house was old. My grandparents lived in it most of their adult lives. It was white with black trimming, but most of the paint was chipped away. On the back porch was firewood all year long. No matter if it was winter; spring, summer, or fall the wood was always there. Red, yellow, purple flowers grew alongside the house all spring and summer. When I entered the door to the foyer the s...
Sharon Olds’s poem, “I Go Back to May 1937,” is an emotional piece that takes the reader back to the early days as the speaker’s existence was first thought about. The speaker is a female who describes the scene when her parents first met; she does this to show her wrestling thoughts as she wishes she could prevent this first encounter. She speaks about this topic because of the horrendous future of regret and sorrow that her family would experience, and also to contemplate her own existence if her parents had never met in May of 1937. Olds uses forms of contrasting figurative language, an ironic plot, and a regretful tone to convey the conflict between the speaker and her parents while she fully comes to understanding of past actions, and how these serve as a way for her to release her feelings on the emotional subject.
Looking at our society and my busy life filled with tests, deadlines, work schedules, and demands for my time coming at me from every direction, I almost with I could go back to that place where time and concerns for the outside world were of little or no consequence. How I love to remember, to relive the memories of my adolescence. My world was perfect then.
In reading Carolyn Kay Steedman's Landscape for a Good Woman, two themes took center stage: Memories and Motherhood. As the book unfolds Steedman repeatedly points out that childhood memories are used by individuals for various purposes; rather than objective recollections dominated by facts, she proposes that they are more subjective in nature, likely to alter with time or as circumstances dictate.
Sitting at the kitchen table in our house that we recently built and moved into on the outskirts of Pillager near Camp Jim, I began to question my mother about her childhood. As we began talking about her childhood I could see a little twinkle in her eyes as she remembered how much fun it was being a kid and not having to worry about all the problems grown ups have to deal with every day.
As a child growing up in a rural county, I didn’t have soccer practice or dance recitals; no play dates or playgrounds. I had trees to climb, woods to explore, bikes to ride and adventures to be had. I had bare feet in the grass, wincing on the gravel driveway, rocks digging into my soles. I had walnuts to crush, plums to eat, flowers to pick, bugs to catch. I had my little brothers to bug me, my mom to take care of me, my dad to laugh with me and my grandparents to hold me. I had books to read, worlds of words to get lost in. I had Saturday morning cartoons, Sunday morning church, and fireflies to catch every night.
“Keep all special thoughts and memories for lifetimes to come. Share these keepsakes with others to inspire hope and build from the past, which can bridge to the future.” Returning to a place where one once experienced an event after several years, allows for the regeneration of memories, specifically those from childhood. The article “Once More to the Lake” written by E.B. White, shares a story about a man, who goes back to the lake that he visited every summer with his Dad when he was a child. Now, as a father himself, he ventures back with his own son. The story takes the reader down memory lane with the adult man reminiscing about his childhood, as the sights, sounds, and smells of the woods bring back fond memories. Although time has
This short story has an ironic tone. When reading this short story, it is a pleasant and normal travel to a former home. Anyone can have a similar outlook when going back to a place in one’s childhood and find many thin...
I can still remember the first day I stepped foot in the humid summer heat of Maryland. It was a day of new beginnings and a new start in life. I was living three astonishing years in Maryland and now I was moving away once again. I was starting third grade when we first moved from sunny Virginia to chilly Maryland. Since I was so young I didn’t really understand how moving different places would affect my family. With this move back to Virginia, I was older and could understand more. I was
company she would tell us very seriously to act nicely in front of them or
The house was old. My grandmother lived in it most of her life. The house was
As I sat down on the sand and watched the waves flow onto the beach, calmness envelopes my mind. I reminisce about the childhood memories that took place in my hometown in Pakistan, echoing excitedly within my mind like an old-school movie. Suddenly, an image flashes within my mind, bringing forth memories of my childhood. I start to reflect on the impact of these childhood memories on one’s development as an individual. My childhood memories I remember may differ from those of others, especially in regard to their emotional and spiritual impact.
As I walk in through the door, I begin to sense the feeling of warmth come over me. This is the feeling I get every time I arrive at my Grandpa's house in Price, Utah. It's where I spent the first five years of my life. This is my second home.
A red brick house on top of a small hill is where my memories reside. A slightly curved gravel road led to the front of the house. Eight or nine rose brown apple trees randomly covered the plush green lawn. Down the small hill, muddy brown water trickled down a ditch with cattails surrounding it. One enormous willow tree sat in the background, to the right of the house, to complete the picture. It almost seemed like a picture from a postcard. But when you're a kid none of this really matters. All that really matters to you is to have as much fun as possible. My memories don't come just from this beautiful picture but from the little things making it.
A very good morning to the teacher and fellow friends. I feel honored to be given this golden opportunity to deliver a speech regarding to my childhood’s memories. The purpose of I choosing this topic is everyone have their own childhood memory and everyone must live through, it can be sweet, happy, or sad. Childhood always happy, innocent and pure. I can say that the childhood’s memories will be ours most happy time and bear to recall this stage after we grew up after ten or twenty years later. I can sure that everyone when you’re in youth or middle age, you will fondly remembers the childhood time and wanted to back to before the happy and carefree childhood time. But, times flies you only can recall the
We’ve emptied out the house, leaving behind the painting of the 101 Dalmations with my ‘modifications’ Grandpa encouraged me to create with marker on the walls. We went through the boxes, finding memories, like the coffee can, wrapped in construction paper and tape. Without them here I can’t go back to that house. I can’t create more memories with them, but I can reflect. I’ll always have those memories to look back on when times are low, but I won’t mourn anymore because they are in a better place, watching what I’m becoming. The house and them will always hold a special place in my heart, and my