Ah Sweet Childhood

The topic for Thursday's Write4Ten is a favorite childhood memory. I have many, but have chosen to write about one in particular that happened when I was six years old.

Although my biological father was never a part of my life and my wonderful step father didn't come into the picture until I was nine years old, I was a very loved and, I must say, indulged little girl. My mother and I lived in a house with my two single aunts and my grandmother. My married uncles all lived in the same town and I was the only grandchild for many years.

I think their mantra was, "It takes a family to raise a child." Needless to say, I was pretty well the center of attention. Even after the uncles had children of their own, they still involved themselves in raising me.

My Aunt Myrle and Uncle Howard didn't have their first child until I was nine years old which gave them lots of time to spend with me. They often took me on outings and overnights, just having fun time together.

I was a pretty girly little girl. I loved my dolls, paper dolls, dress ups and nice clothes. All things feminine appealed to me. I remember so clearly my sixth birthday. I don't know what day of the week it was, or what time of the day that the doorbell rang. My grandmother, as was usual, sent me to answer the door. Standing in front of me was a florist delivery person with a wonderful basket of flowers. They were white chrysanthemums. The card in the basket was for me. "Happy Birthday! Love, Uncle Howard and Aunt Myrle."

I just turned 65 this month and have had many wonderful gifts over the years. Yet, none will ever top that basket of flowers when I turned six.