Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Do you ever wish for someone else's life?

Today I wish that I were in someone else's shoes.  I wish I had someone else's life besides this one right here, right now.  If I had someone else's shoes then perhaps I wouldn't have the scars on my feet from the awkwardness of my own shoes.  Perhaps I wouldn't have tripped and fallen so many times.  Perhaps there would not be so many set backs.  Or maybe I just need to take a closer look at my own life.  Maybe I'm exactly where I am supposed to be.

Lora Hubbard Sullivan.  That's me.  But for the purposes of this particular work I will be simply Lora Hubbard.  Back to my roots. Pre the crazyiness of this life.  Back to simpler times.

I was born in a small farm in Grace, Idaho.  I was an excellent baby.  My mom said that she could leave me alone for long periods of time and I would entertain myself.  Content.  I didn't cry much and I was a fast learner.  I was walking at 9 months.  My first memory is from my first birthday believe it or not.  I remember very distinctly getting a small piece of maroon polyester cloth with buttons and strings sewed onto it.  I also remember thinking "this is it? are you kidding me?"  I was not impressed.

I am the second of 7 children.  I have one older brother, Jarom,  and we were the best of friends.  We did everything together.  We lived in a white house just down the road from my Aunt Janice's house and not too far from the main farm house where my grandparents lived and my dad worked.  The world was our back yard.  I have many fond memories of that house.  In the upstairs room (on the main floor, there was a main floor and a basement) there was a built-in closet.  Not an ordinary closet, but a kind of cupboard closet.  We had to stand on a stool to climb into it.  It had one half shelf in it and it was big enough for at least two small children to get in and have a ball.  It was where we lived sometimes.  Stuffed animals, blankets, pillows, all stuffed in the closet along with our bodies and imaginations.

Jarom and I shared a room for quite awhile.  At least it seemed like quite awhile.  When more siblings, all in the form of sisters came along then other arrangements were made and I moved downstairs with the girls.  But until then we had the run of the place.  Part of it was our bunk beds.  I was on the bottom bunk, he was on top bunk.  I was always jealous of the top bunk.  The exceptions were tent days. 

Bunk beds have many uses, one of which is the making of the tent.  We tucked blankets under the top mattress to form the sides transforming the dreary bottom bunk into a place of wonder and desirability.  The use of a flashlight made it even better.  Everything was magical in our makeshift tent.  Everything was more fun, even naps.  Though I don't know how much sleep was had but I certainly wasn't opposed to staying in bed. Of course being the younger sibling, I often had to forfeit my magical bed for the once oh-so-coveted top bunk.  For some reason Jarom thought that since it was his idea then he should enjoy the fruits of his labor.  I never saw it that way but being smaller and weaker... I didn't have much choice.


  1. I'm sorry things are rough.

    I did enjoy this glimpse into your childhood with the bittersweet memories.

    I'm afraid to wish for someone else's life because I think no matter how bad things get, I'm still probably relatively better off than so many other people. (Of course, that doesn't stop me from coveting/cursing those that seem relatively better off than me!)

    Hope things start looking up.

  2. You know I never saw things as bittersweet but now that I look that's about what it is. I wouldn't trade it though. There's time yet in my story to get back on top!

    Thanks for the good wishes. There's always a silver lining to those stormy clouds right!

  3. I feel exactly the same way. But I'm beginning to think that all of life is made of bittersweet memories. Isn't that the way life works? You have to have the bitter to know the sweet?

    (I think it was your last line that may of tinted my reading of it a bit.)

    And yes, the silver lining is there. Somewhere! Sometimes it would be nice if it wasn't so well hidden. ;)

  4. Amen! Why can't those silver linings shine just a bit brighter.