Melissa’s Cozy Teacup

My nephew, his initials spell out C.A.N. is turning ten today which is quite impossible since he was just born yesterday. I was living in Denver when he was born, dealing with my own dramas at the time. I managed to get to my sister’s house about a week later. The minute she placed him into my arms, I cried. Big fat tears of joy. I had always wanted to be an Auntie. He was a beautiful baby. Some of the skies we saw while in Cabo remind me of the color of his eyes at that time. They were a steely blue, the light and dark blues and grays swirling together. My mom says he and I share the same personality traits. Stubborn of course. Independent, absolutely. But also loving and sensitive.

I remember my tenth birthday very well. It’s one of the few I do remember. My dad had retired from the Navy and we were living in Seattle, Washington at the time on the Navy base up there. I remember exploring the wild wooded areas with my sister and our friends. I remember how dark the woods were, and you probably couldn’t pay me enough to go in there today. Probably the only reason why I even went in there at the time was because I knew, no matter how much we beat each other up, my sister wouldn’t have let anything serious happen to me, beyond the normal tortures endured by a kid sister. I never did understand her love for me. I was always such a pain in the butt. That’s her though, big hearted and loving.

Back to the story about ME… when dad retired from the Navy, he and mom packed everything up and we moved to Colorado. We packed the car full of stuff we would need to get there and would need when we arrived, then hitched a 13′ trailer to the back of our Chevy, and headed South along the coast line. My parents had decided to take it slow and spend the summer traveling and camping. It was to be our big adventure. I can’t say I hated EVERY minute of it, but maybe about 60-70%. I’m an introvert. Being cooped up in small places with people is pure torture for me.

At one of our stop on our trip, dad decided to go fishing in the river. He was standing in the middle of the thing and forgot his jar of bait. He asked me to bring it to him. While I was gingerly picking my way across the slippery rocks, I felt what I thought was something getting trapped between my toes. I reached down to dislodge it, and my hand came back up, out of the water filled with blood. Nothing was stuck between my toes. I had sliced open my foot, between my big toe and the one next to it, on a sharp rock. Being ten, I did what I was supposed to do upon the sight of blood, I freaked out. Dad came to my rescue, but since we were literally in the middle of nowhere, mom had to play doctor and nurse and patch me up the best she could. I needed stitches. Wasn’t going to happen. She rinsed my foot out with green tincture soap and bandaged me up. To this day, from all the times I needed that soap used on me, the smell of it sends a shiver through me. Blech!

Shortly after the river incident, we ended up at the San Diego Zoo or wild park, something with animals and an elephant ride. Dad had to carry me on his back most of the day as I was not able to walk on my foot. We celebrated my tenth birthday, somewhere in America, on the road to Colorado. I even remember the doll I was given, but not her name. I wore a blue tank top and shorts outfit and faux pearls.

Looking back on that whole experience, I may not have liked most of it, but it was an adventure. I’m glad I have a mom who is into adventure. Must be that nomadic Mongol blood of hers.