There are some inexplicably unforgettable moments in my life, memories of small things that happened decades ago, and yet they return to me again and again.
One of them is a time in early 1974. I needed fabric for a home ec project in school. We were making simple drawstring bags, just a rectangle of material, with a big square pocket sewn on, then folded in half inside out, stitched up the sides, a folded seam on top, and a drawstring threaded through. It was a classic intro to the sewing machine for young girls.
My difficulty with the project is perhaps a story for another day, but this memory involves my mother and me going out into the dark of a wintery Sunday night to get the supplies I needed. I'm not sure where the fabric store was in relation to our house, but it seems like the trip was longer than a usual errand. Maybe it was because it was only me and my mom, which was also out of the ordinary, rarely did we go places without my younger brother and sister along.
I remember sitting in the front seat, and listening to the radio tuned to Casey Kasem's American Top 40, and not wanting to miss any of the countdown when we went into the store. I also remember the material we bought. It was a thin wale off-white corduroy with big yellow and blue flowers on it, perfect for the 70s, and I loved it. Back in the car, we drove home as the countdown continued. I'm sure we sang along, but I have no memory of the specific songs.
45 years later, it's still unusual for me to spend one on one time with my mom. Our family is very close emotionally, but not all of us geographically, and where two gather, the rest are often drawn. This week, though, my mom and I have spent lots time together, and plenty of it in the car. Today on an errand of a different kind, Casey wasn't counting them down, but we did tune in to a station that played hits from the 70s, and we sang along as the miles rolled past.
One of them is a time in early 1974. I needed fabric for a home ec project in school. We were making simple drawstring bags, just a rectangle of material, with a big square pocket sewn on, then folded in half inside out, stitched up the sides, a folded seam on top, and a drawstring threaded through. It was a classic intro to the sewing machine for young girls.
My difficulty with the project is perhaps a story for another day, but this memory involves my mother and me going out into the dark of a wintery Sunday night to get the supplies I needed. I'm not sure where the fabric store was in relation to our house, but it seems like the trip was longer than a usual errand. Maybe it was because it was only me and my mom, which was also out of the ordinary, rarely did we go places without my younger brother and sister along.
I remember sitting in the front seat, and listening to the radio tuned to Casey Kasem's American Top 40, and not wanting to miss any of the countdown when we went into the store. I also remember the material we bought. It was a thin wale off-white corduroy with big yellow and blue flowers on it, perfect for the 70s, and I loved it. Back in the car, we drove home as the countdown continued. I'm sure we sang along, but I have no memory of the specific songs.
45 years later, it's still unusual for me to spend one on one time with my mom. Our family is very close emotionally, but not all of us geographically, and where two gather, the rest are often drawn. This week, though, my mom and I have spent lots time together, and plenty of it in the car. Today on an errand of a different kind, Casey wasn't counting them down, but we did tune in to a station that played hits from the 70s, and we sang along as the miles rolled past.
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