Some Stories Echo
Does everyone have that defining story from childhood? That story that is told and retold at every family gathering? That story about that thing you can't possibly remember, but that you feel like you remember because you've heard the story so many times?
I have a few of them.
The one that I KNOW I don't actually remember, although my brain wants to argue that fact because of the echoes of the story being told over and over, happened while we lived in Southern California. It was well before my brother was born, way back when we lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere. My dad was stationed at March Air Force Base. (High five to anybody who recognizes that I just dated myself.) I was just one-year old.
When I was little, we had a cat named Melissa. I actually do remember Melissa, in great part because she was really very memorable. She was a Siamese and took the Siamese reputation of being . . . ummm . . . "challenging" very seriously. She was a mean-spirited cat who was quick to attack pretty much anything that moved.
Except me.
As the story goes, Melissa randomly decided that I was her best bud.
Melissa followed me everywhere, even going so far as to sleep with me every night. Go ahead and wrap your head around the fact that my parents let a mean cat sleep in the crib with a one-year old. Maybe it'll give you a few seconds of "At least I'm a better parent than THAT" like it does for me.
Done?
OK, then. So, Melissa used to sleep with me, a fact which is slightly disturbing, and yet turned out to be a very good thing. One night I was sound asleep in my crib with Melissa at my side when a man broke into the house. The details surrounding the man are fuzzy because that's not the part of the story that has been retold hundreds and hundreds of times. Instead, the focus on the story is always on what happened when that stranger set foot in the room where I was sleeping.
Melissa attacked him. She jumped right at his face, clawing wildly at every bit of skin she could find. She left him bloody and beaten. He landed at the emergency room before heading off to jail for breaking and entering.
You cannot go to a family gathering without hearing that story, even to this day. 34 years after it happened, it's still a story that people feel the need to echo.
Which leads me to wonder, which of Alexis' stories will end up being told for the rest of her life?
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Reader Comments (12)
That story gave me chills.
My aunt likes to tell me how she babysat me once when I was a baby and I pooped all over the place.
That's my family legacy.
@BeckyD--BEST. LEGACY. EVER.
That is an awesome story to "remember". I don't doubt that our long-gone, mean-old-cat that loved the girls more than life itself would have done the same thing. Aside from the whole sleeping-in-the-crib thing, cause yeah . . .
That is a pretty good story, dude. I could see killer-Melissa flying through the air all ninja like.
I have a few stories as well, though I do have memories of being bitten by the dog (for the second time...). No one tells that story though because it's still a sore spot between in-laws. Ah, families.
most excellent story! i love that melissa defended you to the point of the intruder needing a hospital.
Awesome. Its amazing how much pets love us, and the lengths that they will go to protect us.
Reminds me a little of a story where a friend of the family had a simaese who would hid when she brought a date home. When said date would go to kiss her, the cat would spring up and bite the date on the neck.
I think Alexis will one day tell of the trauma of having to wear a blue outfit when she wanted to wear pink. And it will be a "Performance!"
Wow that's actually a GREAT story to have follow you around. I actually don't have a legacy.. (is that a FAIL on my parents?) My husband however has quite a few... all told by his dad... ALL THE TIME... even when he just calls his dad to say hey...yup apparently he's THAT epic.
I can also picture Melissa flying at his face. Great story! I too have a story, one which involves me naked on a driveway at the age of 2. I'm told there are pictures....
I have to add that my husband's father was stationed at March in the 80s, and for the 10 years before we moved to PA, we lived about 5 miles from March. Small world!
That. Is. Awesome.
I, too, had a mean cat growing up. She adored me, liked my mom, and tolerated my brother. That was it. We used to warn guests: "do NOT try to pet the cat, she WILL bite."
But seriously, that story is worthy of being a story that echoes.
I'm sure Alexis will have a ton of stories to be told.
What a kick ass cat! Love your story.
Saddly I have none. :-( I guess I'm not memorable enough. haha
I have a few stories, too. The one I definitely don't remember involves the weekly Saturday card nights at my aunt and uncle's and the adults not being able to set their drinks on the floor by the chair legs (nothing on the table but the cards, cash and cigarettes) because apparently my sister and I would crawl around sipping from the glasses. I do remember knowing how to play pinochle at age four. Looking back, this puts several things into perspective!