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Diaryland
Fountain Valley March 23, 2005 @ 12:45 p.m.
About a year after I was born, if I recall correctly, my dad was offered a job down in Southern California. So we left Stockton and moved to Fountain Valley, near Los Angeles and Orange County. I have no memory of the move, and almost no memory of Fountain Valley. My earliest memory is of a park near our apartment complex, and crossing the street with my mom from our complex to a little shopping center with a video rental store and a little restaurant. I remember the big boxes that the beta tapes used to come in, and when I was younger I asked mom why we couldn't rent those - I assumed because they were bigger that they would be better.
My grandparents, especially my mom's parents, had a big part in raising me when I was young. It was hard on everybody for my parents to move so far down south. Given the size of California, we might as well have been one or two states away from my grandparents, and that bothered both my mom and my grandparents. Still, my grandparents would come down now and then to take care of me for my mom, and I would go back with them to their places - initially Tracy, but then Oroville, where they have lived ever since.
We lived in the Fountain Valley apartment for three years. Between that and Stockton, that was the only time in my life I was an only child - another thing that would be nice to remember. Not that I don't love my brother, but it would be interesting to see what it was like before he came along.
I'm not sure if this was while we lived in Fountain Valley or afterwards, but my mom worked as a registered nurse at St. Mary's hospital, and maybe a couple others before or after. There was a time I remember where my mom was doing house calls for different people, and I had to tag along with her when the schedule demanded. It actually wasn't that bad. It was interesting to look out the window as we drove around the Los Angeles area. And we met some interesting people and same some memorable homes too. One I remember in particular was a place filled with mountains of newpapers. The guy apparently was a real packrat, to the point where you could barely get around or out of the house - a real fire hazard. My mom tells me that on those trips I was remarkably well behaved for a little boy. I got comments like that from both strangers and older family members. I don't remember my great-grandfather David, but my mom tells me that apparently I blew him away with my manners. Most of my great-grandparents died before I turned four. I remember a little of my dad's grandmother Rose, but my mom's grandmother Helen is who I remember best, because she long outlived the others and died only a year or two ago. She was always very nice to me, and I was kind of in awe of her age. I wish I had gotten to know her better.
"Details in the Fabric" - May 31, 2009
Not So Quick Questions - April 6, 2009
The Morning Stars - Lords of the 15 - April 9, 2009
Sincerity and Faith in Magic - April 10, 2009
Not So Quick Questions (2) - April 14, 2009
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