Parts of my childhood seem to be forever hidden in the the foggiest parts of my memory, until they are brought to my attention when I meet someone or hear something that takes me back. Today I was taken down a stroll on memory lane, so I figured I would share.
I was volunteering with the Habitat for Humanity in my hometown, going around to local businesses and asking for donations for our auction fundraiser that we do every year. My boss and I stopped inside the furniture shop downtown, Beyer's Furniture, and as we walked inside an image came to me that had been resting somewhere in the back of my head for years, collecting dust. It went like this:
I was sitting before an old chair, with a spotted rug beneath me and a small, light-stained wooden bedside table to my right. My sister sat beside me on the floor. I was probably around the age of six or seven, but no older, which would peg my sister at nine or ten. In front of us was one of those old, tiny televisions, with the dial and everything. Somebody, although I can't remember exactly who, had put a movie in for my sister and I to watch. It was "Anastasia". This was the first time that I ever saw this movie, and let me tell you, I did not like it. What kid enjoys a movie with demons popping up out of the ground and creepy old men cutting off their slimy hands? But I remember sitting there and watching the movie, and then my flashback ended.
Back in the present time at the furniture store, I had a realization: this memory had taken place in this very store, which is what triggered it. You see, my Aunt Anita (who was really more of my grandma, for reasons that will be explained later) used to work in this store, and sometimes my sister and I would come over and visit, hence the sitting on the ground watching a movie while she worked. The fact that all of this had gone unremembered by me for so many years made me smile. It was like a missing part of my childhood had been restored.
The man who was working at the store looked older, probably in his seventies, so I wondered if he had known my Aunt or would remember her. She died in 2001, so I thought the chances slim, but asked anyway. And when he smiled and laughed, asking me if I meant "Sargeant Silkworth", I knew he remembered her. (Note: Silkworth was my Aunt Anita's last name) Apparently, she used to go around the shop, telling him how things had to be, and how this had to be moved, and that wasn't right, even though he was the owner of the store. They all called her "Sargeant Silkworth", and to demonstrate this, the man saluted in my direction. I shook my head because I knew exactly what he was talking about. My Aunt was just like that: she was opinionated, stubborn, and outspoken. And anyone who really knew her loved it.
Bud Beyer was the owner of the furniture store's name. He told me how my Aunt had gotten hired at the store, back in the late 80's. My grandma Pat had been diagnosed with breast cancer at the time, and so my Aunt came up to help take care of her only sister. My grandpa was working and both my uncle and my dad had moved out of the house, so she figured her sister could use someone to help take care of things while the guys were gone. She and my grandma were out at a restaurant with the Bud's wife when my grandma told the owner's wife that "she ought to hire Anita at the store". My Aunt Anita and my Grandma Pat were Hoods, and Hoods would tell you like it is and were not ones to beat around the bush. The lady was obviously a bit surprised by this foreword approach, but my grandma continued. "My sister worked for a design company in California see, and she is bored out of her mind at our house. She hates being cooped up there all the time with nothing to do. She'd be a great addition to your store." Or at least, that's somewhat how I imagined the conversation going. So eventually, after talking it over with Bud, his wife hired her. She worked there for at least 10 years.
I loved hearing this story from Bud because it reminded me of how fascinating my grandma and my Aunt were, a part of my history that isn't brought up much. And Bud told me he noticed my grandpa's death in the papers recently, which only showed me how much he really cared about my family. He remembered that my grandpa used to do puzzles in the basement while my grandma raged on upstairs, and then when she was done being upset, he would come back upstairs and just do his silly old smile and laugh routine that I had seen him do so many times in my own life. All of the memories came back to me when Bud told me these stories, and I thought that made a pretty great addition to my day.
I will never forget that I am a Harris, and part Hood, and that means that I know how to get things done, I am not afraid of hard work, and I am not afraid to be myself. Even if my grandma, grandpa, and Aunt are gone, these things that they taught me will live on in me forever. They will always be there, waiting to greet me when I get jolted back into my memories.
"Don't Lose Your Head
To Save A Minute
You Need Your Head
Your Brains Are In It!"
-Aunt Anita's Plaque
