Truth or Memory?
When my husband and I were shopping for our first house, in Alpharetta, Georgia, one of my requirements was that it must have a large yard. Our only child at the time was almost 3, and I wanted him to have lots of room to run and play. As I rejected house after house, I repeated my mantra that “the yard isn’t as big as the one I had in Bowie”.
Now, as a young child growing up in Bowie, Maryland, I have extremely vivid memories of both our house and our yard. It was here that we played “flashlight tag” with our friends throughout the warm summer evenings. I remember our swing set, sandbox and the garden my mother tended, and from which we ate fresh cucumbers, radishes and carrots. The yard had a fence around it, and a birdhouse on the telephone poll that stood just outside the fence in one corner. I remember our cat using the fence as a way to reach the birdhouse, and leaving dead “presents” on the front door step! My parents even hosted a Carnival for Muscular Dystrophy one year, and I remember all the games we set up and the food we served. I don’t remember how much money we raised for the charity, but as a child of 6 or 7, that wasn’t my priority. Such are the memories of youth!
So my husband valiantly led me from house to house, hoping that I would find one that lived up to my wonderful memories. But a funny thing happened. We found a house that was absolutely perfect! By “perfect”, I mean that it had all the room we wanted for what we hoped would be a growing family, and yet had a price tag that we could afford! The one drawback was that it didn’t have “a backyard like the one in Bowie!” It had a large yard, yes, but it was cut on an angle from two opposite corners, leaving two triangular-shaped pieces. One triangle was the backyard that was usable. The other triangle was a hill leading down to our neighbors’ yard, and it was going to be covered with trees. My husband finally convinced me that the house was great, and the yard, while not up to “Bowie” standards, would be fine.
Having made our decision, and signed the papers, we proceeded to call our parents to tell them of our wonderful news!
“The backyard isn’t as big as the one we had in Bowie, but I think it will work out fine,” I explained to my dad later that night. My comment was met with complete silence on the other end of the phone line. When my father finally spoke, it was a question.
“Our big backyard in Bowie?” he asked incredulously, “our backyard in Bowie wasn’t big! In fact, it was the smallest yard of all the houses we’ve ever lived in!” Well, I was shocked! Thinking he was mistaken, I proceeded to remind him of all the things in the yard – the garden, the swing set, the sandbox. He firmly restated, that the yard was not large, and he had put up the fence, because our neighbors were so close!
“But,” he continued, “I guess from your perspective as a child, it probably seemed big to you.” Now I was the one who was silent. Were all my memories, then, not to be believed? Was the childhood I had warmly held close to me all these years, a lie? I felt robbed. But then my dad added some very sage advice about the house we were buying.
“Although it may not be up to your standards, don’t say anything to your kids about the yard being small, and they won’t notice. Theirs will probably seem big to them, just as yours seemed big to you!” And he was right! Reality doesn’t count. Only our perception of it.
We had our 2nd child while living in that house, and both kids will tell you stories about our one and only snowfall and how they loved sledding down the big hill to our neighbors’ yard. Does it matter that in reality it was more of a heavy “flurry” than a snowfall, and the “big” hill was a mere bump? Not at all. All that matters, is that they loved living there, and have wonderful memories – however inaccurate!
Now, as a young child growing up in Bowie, Maryland, I have extremely vivid memories of both our house and our yard. It was here that we played “flashlight tag” with our friends throughout the warm summer evenings. I remember our swing set, sandbox and the garden my mother tended, and from which we ate fresh cucumbers, radishes and carrots. The yard had a fence around it, and a birdhouse on the telephone poll that stood just outside the fence in one corner. I remember our cat using the fence as a way to reach the birdhouse, and leaving dead “presents” on the front door step! My parents even hosted a Carnival for Muscular Dystrophy one year, and I remember all the games we set up and the food we served. I don’t remember how much money we raised for the charity, but as a child of 6 or 7, that wasn’t my priority. Such are the memories of youth!
So my husband valiantly led me from house to house, hoping that I would find one that lived up to my wonderful memories. But a funny thing happened. We found a house that was absolutely perfect! By “perfect”, I mean that it had all the room we wanted for what we hoped would be a growing family, and yet had a price tag that we could afford! The one drawback was that it didn’t have “a backyard like the one in Bowie!” It had a large yard, yes, but it was cut on an angle from two opposite corners, leaving two triangular-shaped pieces. One triangle was the backyard that was usable. The other triangle was a hill leading down to our neighbors’ yard, and it was going to be covered with trees. My husband finally convinced me that the house was great, and the yard, while not up to “Bowie” standards, would be fine.
Having made our decision, and signed the papers, we proceeded to call our parents to tell them of our wonderful news!
“The backyard isn’t as big as the one we had in Bowie, but I think it will work out fine,” I explained to my dad later that night. My comment was met with complete silence on the other end of the phone line. When my father finally spoke, it was a question.
“Our big backyard in Bowie?” he asked incredulously, “our backyard in Bowie wasn’t big! In fact, it was the smallest yard of all the houses we’ve ever lived in!” Well, I was shocked! Thinking he was mistaken, I proceeded to remind him of all the things in the yard – the garden, the swing set, the sandbox. He firmly restated, that the yard was not large, and he had put up the fence, because our neighbors were so close!
“But,” he continued, “I guess from your perspective as a child, it probably seemed big to you.” Now I was the one who was silent. Were all my memories, then, not to be believed? Was the childhood I had warmly held close to me all these years, a lie? I felt robbed. But then my dad added some very sage advice about the house we were buying.
“Although it may not be up to your standards, don’t say anything to your kids about the yard being small, and they won’t notice. Theirs will probably seem big to them, just as yours seemed big to you!” And he was right! Reality doesn’t count. Only our perception of it.
We had our 2nd child while living in that house, and both kids will tell you stories about our one and only snowfall and how they loved sledding down the big hill to our neighbors’ yard. Does it matter that in reality it was more of a heavy “flurry” than a snowfall, and the “big” hill was a mere bump? Not at all. All that matters, is that they loved living there, and have wonderful memories – however inaccurate!