I think about my childhood over and over and over again but to no avail. I have very little memory of my younger years. I once remember hearing someone say that their first memory is from when they were four years of age but I can't seem to go back that far and remember anything from those innocent years of my life.
I recall having a good childhood. I had an older sibling and we close growing up. Both my parents were around and grandparents too. I wasn't abused sexually, physically or emotionally. I wasn't poor, starving or living on the streets. We were a normal, middle class family who took family vacations every year, had friends and loved ones and were close overall.
I recall looking through family albums and seeing album after album of family photos. Always smiling, always laughing. As I think closely now, there's only one photograph I've seen of myself as an infant and my father holding me in one hand about a foot away from his face and body. I recall seeing no photographs of my mother holding me.
I don't ever remember my mother or father holding me, hugging me, kissing me or ever telling me that they loved me. We never used those words or any gestures of emotional intimacy. It was normal though. Growing up, I never once questioned the lack of emotional connection and just assumed that was the norm, Our family showed us love in other ways. My father was hard-working and my mother was a stay at home mom. She cooked, cleaned, took care of the kids and home and my dad went to work and made all the money.
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