I was spoiled and soft as a young child. And let me be clear that being spoiled does not always equate with wealth. My sister and I lived in US Navy housing up until I was around 6 years of age…. essentially subsidized housing for lower income enlisted Navy families.
Anyhow, I had a birthday party and my mom organized some games with silver dollars as prizes. I do not recall the games but I clearly recall that I did not win any silver dollars. My angst must have built to a point of no return as a temper tantrum ensued until I got my silver dollar… of course without merit.
Shortly after, my father had saved enough money to purchase a house, a small ranch in a neighborhood filled with kids. Your position amongst these kids was based on your toughness and your athletic ability. And I was always near the bottom.
I used to play catch with my dad, trying both to gain his approval and move up this pecking order in the neighborhood. One time, I missed a catch. The ball skimmed off the top of my glove and hit me in the lip. I felt like a failure. Both in the eyes of my father and the neighborhood kids. Sadly, I still have that scar on my upper lip that is a constant reminder of that failure.
Our house was within walking distance to a Woolworth’s and we would go there any chance we could. Sort of a place where a few dollars would go a long way. One time, I lost 5 dollars there. In our family, all money was accounted for and I knew what I was in for with my empty pockets. It happened when I was lying on our couch watching television. My mother stormed in hysterically and knocked a bowl of soup on my face.
In each of these instances, I could have done better. I could have been better behaved…..I could have caught that ball…… I could have been a little more careful with my money. And maybe…. just maybe if I had done a little more of the right things my parents would still be alive.
You may think it is absurd that a young child would harbor such irrational thoughts. But you tell that to anyone who has experienced a similar loss. There is no “RATIONAL” to such loss as there is no “RATIONAL” to how one feels that loss.
I have carried this guilt for my whole life and not a day passes where I don’t wish that I could have been a better child.
Childhood lost 