Filling in the Gaps
When I was eleven years old my mom got me a small tape recorder for my birthday. I have held onto the tapes all of these years, but haven’t listened to them in ages. With the help of one of my brothers who supplied me the necessary power cord, I was able to listen to occasions of my childhood. The day I got the recorder reveals a young girl trying to learn how to use it. On and off the recorder went as I talked with my friends and interviewed people in my family—like my mom and grandma—who have since passed. Those were the days that we waited and waited for our favorite song to come on the radio so we could record it. My brother has a two-sided, LONG recording of the Apollo launch he must have recorded off the TV or radio. Birthday party fun and even adult silliness on the tapes have given me snapshots of moments in time I would not have recalled otherwise. The innocence is remarkable! Listening to myself at that age surprisingly provided hints of who I was to