21/02/2024
My mind is racing as I have gone back in time.
It's 1972.
Mom and Dad are enjoying a rare moment alone standing in front of the kitchen sink.
They are 43 years old.
Dad is in the grocery business, mom is a registered nurse, and life is good.
"In a couple of years I can help you get a job bagging groceries," Dad tells me.
They have 5 kids.
A year earlier they watched their oldest child get married.
Their youngest child is 3 years old.
19 years separate their oldest from their youngest.
I am the middle child, and I am certain I am their favorite.
I'm 14 years old, an eighth grader.
Mister Cool.
I pound on my new drum set in the basement and drive them crazy .
They smile at me as I walk back upstairs and say, "You sounded great, Ricky."
I can only imagine what they are really thinking.
Mom and Dad are easy parents.
I am an easy child- but for some reason I have upset my mom.
She chases me around the kitchen table- I'm not sure what she is going to do if and when she catches me.
Mom breaks her big toe when she accidentally stubs it on the table leg.
I cry myself to sleep at night when I hear her hobble down the hallway.
She has to be in pain.
I tell myself it's all my fault.
I learn a lot about sympathy and compassion.
Mom and Dad love being in the kitchen.
Life is good- they have a dishwasher and a disposal- they have just purchased a microwave.
Dad tells us we might be able to someday by a blender at Sears.
We even have a long cord on our rotary phone in the kitchen so my sister can pull the phone into the dining room and whisper to her boyfriend.
I take my first job.
I'm picking strawberries at Hafner Farms during the summer.
I earn 5 cents for every little green basket I fill.
I am dirty and sore at the end of the day, and every so often I eat one of those big, juicy strawberries to quench my thirst.
The money I make is not much, but the sound of the coins jingling in my front pocket makes me happy.
I collapse on the couch and still marvel at our color TV.
I have an eye on our family's Pontiac Catalina.
I am a year from getting my driver's permit, but my sister Kathy has already claimed the car.
The car is dark blue with s**g carpeting, so cool.
Maybe someday I can put an 8-track cassette deck in the car and listen to "American Pie".
I am getting to be a really good drummer.
The window sill in my bedroom is worn and chipped from drumming on it.
I open the window so my friends can hear how talented I am.
I don't see anyone noticing.
Maybe I'm not as good as I think.
Mom and dad have let me join a drum and bugle corp.
Night after summer night my mom or dad drive me to practice that is held inside an old school.
I tour the country in old buses.
With little sleep I learn a lot about drive and hard work.
It sure is an interesting year.
"The Godfather", "All In The Family", the Egg McMuffin.
Dad complaining about gas costing 36 cents a gallon.
Something called Watergate.
Another man on the moon.
Mom and Dad are funny and quick-witted, creative and outgoing.
Dad always has a corny joked to lighten the mood, even after I do my impersonation of Richard Nixon.
"You should go on stage, Ricky," he tells me. "There's one leaving town in 10 minutes."
Dad doesn't let 100 years prior when stagecoaches were a thing ruin a good joke.
My cell phone just rang and it startled me.
I'm back in 2024, thinking about my parents.
Dad died almost 10 years ago- Mom tried to forge on, but I think she missed him so.
After all, they were married 64 years when Dad died.
Mom went to Heaven to join my dad 5 years later.
I believe Mom and Dad lived in great faith and looked forward to being together forever.
It's hard to believe that it's been 52 years, but I'm so happy that I ran across this picture, because it just took me back to a year that I'll forever hold dear.
A year that has memories flooding back:
1972.
