I was in kindergarten at my Canoga Park elementary school in the San Fernando Valley. My school was 6-10 blocks from our house. It was a sunny California day and I was walking back from school, alone. In those days, 5 year olds did that sort of thing. As I was walking, I saw my mother in the distance coming down the road. I mean literally walking down the middle of the street. She was pulling a red wagon behind her. I was confused and happy at the same time. This was so out of the ordinary. I don’t remember my mom ever taking me to or from school, other than the very first day of Kindergarten (read about that memory). So the site of my mom walking towards me pulling a red wagon, full of toys as I discovered, was very odd and yet exciting.
As she approached, I asked why she was there and where was she going with the wagon full of toys? She told me that my brother’s class was having some kind of party or something and she was bringing them these toys. She smiled, said goodbye and walked on down the road. I don’t think I asked why she was in the middle of the road. In hind sight, that really doesn’t strike me as strange for my mom and I never cared to know. I said goodbye and walked home to the empty house.
This memory is a good one. I look back on this glimpse of my past as a nugget of happiness. I hold onto it and cherish it, because it is nearly alone in the sea of crazy and disturbing memories of my childhood.
