Cindy’s Meme

My side of the Story

Before You read this-please read Cindy's blog on how she met me.

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Cindy the other day decided to tell the story of how she and I met, and a grand story it is. But her memory is a bit faded and perhaps colored by the passing of time.

I was about 16 at the time and also visiting a relative. The dark haired woman was my Aunt Lil. Her husband my uncle Jack was in the Air Force and was stationed in Libya. I was there to keep her company.  Cindy’s confusion  about my aunts and my relationship comes from the fact that that she and my mom look and act almost identically. When I was about 2 or 3 I couldn’t tell them apart so I started calling both of them Mom just to be on the safe side and never quit.

Now her Aunt and Uncle besides being my Aunts neighbors were also good friends and back then doors weren’t locked so kids were in and out all day long.  I guess we believed it did take a village to raise a child.

I remember my Aunt talking to me about Cindy and how I should be nice to her. I decided that I would be nice by ignoring her.

Well that didn’t work. There was this skinny, freckled, flat chested ( if her aunt did buy her a bra I hope it wasn’t a “Living Bra” cause that puppy would have died of starvation) brat whose main purpose in life was to annoy me.

I would come down for breakfast and she would be at the table with my aunt and the next thing I knew she would be following me to the store.

Every time I went outside there she was riding her bike yelling,  showing off and falling off in the gravel. I think she kept Bactine in business that year. She would also (if I was ignoring her) throw rocks at me and run and tell my Aunt I was picking on her when I gave chase.

After the time when I was washing my Aunts car and she threw a bucket of soapy water on me and then hosed me down I gave up. It was just eaiser.

One thing about Meridian is that the summer evenings are long and it is easy to get to really know someone-even a 12 year old brat. We would sit there and talk and maybe I would push her on the swing. I got so I missed her when she wasn’t tormenting me. I also missed the hugs and kisses she gave before she had to go home.

She was a pain in the ass-but I guess she was my pain in the ass.

At the end of August her people came and got her and she went home. A few days later my Aunt put me on a Grayhound and I went back home to Michigan.

My Uncle came home and was transferred to Tinker Air Force Base in Oklahoma, so I never made it back to Meridian. Never found out how she was doing. But I did think of her every now and then over the years. That was one of those golden summers you get to have before real life catches up with you.

To this day I don’t know how she tracked me down-but I am glad she did.

Oh by the way-she is still a pain in the ass-but she is my pain in the ass.

And that is the truth-you figure out if the rest is.