When I think back to the Autumn of 1984, I am met with mixed emotions.
It was a great time in pop culture and I was into all of it! But I was also a 10 year old mess.
There was however, one thing different. I now lived with my Dad. That is what I needed for so many years. I didn't know why I needed to live with my Dad, I only knew I did.
Things were better, but still uneasy.
But, something was about to ease my mind, if only for a little while.....the fall carnival at my elementary school!
I remember it vividly. This was my first year in Kansas City at my new school. It was going ok, I guess. Then fall came along and everything turned damp, crisp and was bursting with color!
I found the dismal, rainy days to be my favorite! Go figure.
I was very much into Michael Jackson in 1984 so it was only natural for me to wear my black and red parachute pants to the fall carnival at school.
I remember being on the playground with my Stepmom. She was so pretty and loving.
She had her arm around me walking on the blacktop where I spent my recess time playing hopscotch and double dutch.
We did the cake walk together. Bobbed for apples and visited with some of my school friends.
It was a cloudy, crisp fall evening. Perfection.
There were several other games but I mostly remember my time with her on this magical night.
I sometimes wonder if I really love the fall, or does it just so happen that some of the best times in my life, just happened to BE in the fall?
Either way, I'll take it.
I miss my Stepmother. I could write a book about my memories of her. She held my heart when nobody else could understand me.
After she and my Dad divorced, I lost track of her for several years.
I saw her now and then and it was always very painful for me. I missed her for so long.
When I had my first child, I began soul searching, as most of us do.
I dug deep into my past. I finally had to face so many things. I had to! I had to learn what NOT to do. I had to find a way to never let my kids feel the pain that I went through.
I realized that my Stepmother treated me like I was her real child. I know this now, from direct experience of being a Mother.
After years of searching, with the help of my Dad, I found her a few years back. I was able to speak to her on the phone and then write her a letter.
I was able to tell her ALL the things I wanted to say. How much I loved her. How many good memories she created for me in my childhood.
I have since lost her again. But that will not stop me from cherishing my memories of her.
Especially the one at my school's Fall Carnival, 1984.
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