The People I Used to Be - Part I

A sketch - Circa 1984

Me and Gramps - Circa 1984

I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not.

Joan Didion, On Keeping a Notebook

4 Years Old

Big ol' round head, mushroom cut hair, goofy no-lip smile. I looked a lot like Danny Torrance from Kubrick's The Shining, or Creedence-era John Fogerty in kid form. This era was punctuated by that acute ignorance towards the world that you'd expect from a 4-year-old. If Sesame Street or Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood didn't mention it, it didn't exist.

These are where my earliest memories were born. My recollections don't stretch back any further than this. Mom and I lived on a quiet residential street at my grandparent's home in the San Fernando Valley, where I received tons of love and warmth from all directions. There was a complete sense of sanctuary, of being completely sheltered from the evils of the world. I couldn't even comprehend evil at that point. In my fresh mind, the world was inherently a good place. I was totally oblivious to the long string of mental and physical abuse that my mom and I had endured just a year or two prior under the cocaine-fueled shadow of my biological dad. That had all transpired before the age when memories congeal and take shape. I didn't learn about any of that until several years later. It nearly destroyed me.

I feel a deep love, admiration, and tinge of melancholy sadness towards this kid. All he wanted to do was play with Robotech toys and Shrinky Dinks. He was curious about nature, kept an ant farm, and loved getting hugs from grandpa. Over 40 years later, gramps remains my greatest hero. The window of pure childhood innocence was short, even back then.

Coming out of that brief period is always a minor tragedy.