11 views
Early Memories
My earliest memory laying in my crib looking around and seeing people looking at me. So strange to have that feeling of “wow these people look weird I thought to myself.”
My wife always told me that I sound like a “storyteller” and I should write all my stories down in to a book. It took me many years to get the nerves to write my thoughts down even, placing my thoughts and words down on paper. Growing up in a house full of girls was so hard I always wished that it was just my dad. Having sisters and all their drama sucked because they would always play with me like I was their human doll. Dressing me up in makeup or even putting there girly clothes on me.
My dad would try his best to have one on one time with me and play football games with me or even take me out fishing. The feeling that always came over me of wondering why I looked different from my sister’s and we were raised by our dad and never had a mother in the house. My sister’s always told me stories why but being so young I always made up that my mom was overseas in the Army fighting bad guys.
Sitting on my window ledge looking up at the night sky and stars thinking to myself maybe my mom is looking to the moon and sky just like I was and thinking to herself “ How is my baby boy doing and soon we'll be together.” As the days would go by I would forget to think about my mom, when mother’s day would pass by I would make my dad a “Daddy / Mommy day card” because he was all I knew in my life besides my sisters. Growing up on a Native American reservation felt like it was the best place to grow up. I felt because you can play in the mud and climb trees was a wonderful place to be raised. There was a huge hill that I would go stand on to get away from my sister’s and I would be able to see the whole reservation. It would feel like I was on top of the world. When I close my eyes I can see the river that stretches two football fields wide, there would be nice and cool days. I would spend hours and hours looking at all the mountains around me.
It seemed to me like a painting in an art gallery. I would look to my right and you would see our local hotel now, but when I was a kid all there was is an empty lot of sand all over and tumbleweeds like you would see in old black and white movies. Summers were always so hot, it would feel like someone had turned up the heater up to 100% degrees and your t-shirt would stick to your body. My local swimming pools were canals and ditches, jumping into those canals and ditches were so nice and cold. There would be times I would catch myself sitting on the side of the canal bank in the dirt just staring at the water watching all the currents make swirls and pushing around all the little rocks and dirt out of the way. Right by the canal, I used to swim in. A canal is a long dirty water that would be placed into the fields of veggies that would grow near our house. The whole reservation was my backyard and I could walk anywhere without being afraid of anything or anyone.
When you look around the reservation where I grew up, you could see miles and miles of agriculture, plenty of dirt, and ditches. That was my home and I would not change anything for the world. In the back of our house, we had trees I would climb like a monkey. Those trees were my travel places to different places in my mind.
All throughout school, I was a creative child and I either got a pat on the back for doing well or had to take my desk outside. In my mind, I was singing in class silent so no one would hear me.
That was not the case, I was being me and I loved seeing the view with my little desk outside. All of my elementary years into middle school started to become a little different. Being multiracial and trying to fit in was a real challenge. Like the title of this book “Conquering My Past,” I always pushed my way in and people accepted who I was.
My name is Raymond Martinez Jr. and this is my life story of my life with my crazy sisters and my dad. Enjoy and if you feel this story speaks to you and enjoy every page turn tell others and share. All the characters and places are made up along with some scenes that are real.
© QueenVillasenor
My wife always told me that I sound like a “storyteller” and I should write all my stories down in to a book. It took me many years to get the nerves to write my thoughts down even, placing my thoughts and words down on paper. Growing up in a house full of girls was so hard I always wished that it was just my dad. Having sisters and all their drama sucked because they would always play with me like I was their human doll. Dressing me up in makeup or even putting there girly clothes on me.
My dad would try his best to have one on one time with me and play football games with me or even take me out fishing. The feeling that always came over me of wondering why I looked different from my sister’s and we were raised by our dad and never had a mother in the house. My sister’s always told me stories why but being so young I always made up that my mom was overseas in the Army fighting bad guys.
Sitting on my window ledge looking up at the night sky and stars thinking to myself maybe my mom is looking to the moon and sky just like I was and thinking to herself “ How is my baby boy doing and soon we'll be together.” As the days would go by I would forget to think about my mom, when mother’s day would pass by I would make my dad a “Daddy / Mommy day card” because he was all I knew in my life besides my sisters. Growing up on a Native American reservation felt like it was the best place to grow up. I felt because you can play in the mud and climb trees was a wonderful place to be raised. There was a huge hill that I would go stand on to get away from my sister’s and I would be able to see the whole reservation. It would feel like I was on top of the world. When I close my eyes I can see the river that stretches two football fields wide, there would be nice and cool days. I would spend hours and hours looking at all the mountains around me.
It seemed to me like a painting in an art gallery. I would look to my right and you would see our local hotel now, but when I was a kid all there was is an empty lot of sand all over and tumbleweeds like you would see in old black and white movies. Summers were always so hot, it would feel like someone had turned up the heater up to 100% degrees and your t-shirt would stick to your body. My local swimming pools were canals and ditches, jumping into those canals and ditches were so nice and cold. There would be times I would catch myself sitting on the side of the canal bank in the dirt just staring at the water watching all the currents make swirls and pushing around all the little rocks and dirt out of the way. Right by the canal, I used to swim in. A canal is a long dirty water that would be placed into the fields of veggies that would grow near our house. The whole reservation was my backyard and I could walk anywhere without being afraid of anything or anyone.
When you look around the reservation where I grew up, you could see miles and miles of agriculture, plenty of dirt, and ditches. That was my home and I would not change anything for the world. In the back of our house, we had trees I would climb like a monkey. Those trees were my travel places to different places in my mind.
All throughout school, I was a creative child and I either got a pat on the back for doing well or had to take my desk outside. In my mind, I was singing in class silent so no one would hear me.
That was not the case, I was being me and I loved seeing the view with my little desk outside. All of my elementary years into middle school started to become a little different. Being multiracial and trying to fit in was a real challenge. Like the title of this book “Conquering My Past,” I always pushed my way in and people accepted who I was.
My name is Raymond Martinez Jr. and this is my life story of my life with my crazy sisters and my dad. Enjoy and if you feel this story speaks to you and enjoy every page turn tell others and share. All the characters and places are made up along with some scenes that are real.
© QueenVillasenor
Related Stories
