Alyse Rađenović art.
By Guennigirl
I was born in March of 1952, in White Plains, New York, a suburb of New York City. I was the oldest child of four children, two girls and two boys. Dad worked for AIU (American International Underwriters), an insurance company, which later became AIG, the insurance giant.
My mother grew up on a large wheat ranch in the rolling hills of the Palouse country, on the outskirts of Walla Walla, Washington, in the southeastern corner of the state. She was the baby in a family of five girls and no boys. My father was born in western Washington, an only child. At age 2, he moved to Shanghai, China (now known as Beijing, China). He lived there until he was 16 years old, when his family moved back to New York City.At age one, we moved to Havana, Cuba, where my brother, George, was born. At age two, we moved to the island of Bermuda, for nine months. At age three, we moved to Caracas, Venezuela, where we lived for four years. I have only isolated memories of Cuba and Bermuda.
My most vivid memory of those years is when I bumped down a flight of iron steps chin first, in Cuba, and had to get three stitches under my chin. I can see the steps in my mind, though we have no photographs of them. They had raised bumps on them, for better traction, I am sure. What I remember is WHY I fell down those steps. The reason is a personality trait that I have carried with me, very pronounced, throughout my entire life: what if, I’ll find out if I try to do it, dive in and overcome the unforeseen obstacles that hit you, as they come at you: in short, curiousity. (Curiousity killed the cat. Yes, but Satisfaction brought it Back.)
I wondered how many steps I could jump at a time without falling down. So, at age one, almost two, I approached it very methodically and scientifically! First I would jump one step. Then I would climb back to the starting step and jump two steps. Then I would climb back up to the starting step and jump three steps. And I would keep going that way until I fell down! Each time I climbed back to the starting step, I would add one more step to jump! So simple! So logical! It was working great, until I fell. The problem was, my starting step was the top step of the flight of stairs. So naturally, when I jumped enough steps that I couldn’t keep my balance when I landed, I fell forward, bump, bump, bump, bump, chin first, down the whole flight of metal stairs, to the bottom.
Coming up, we move on to age three, Caracas, Venezuela.
(Guenn Adare, or “Guennigirl,” was raised in three cultures: Central American, white collar New York metropolitan, and farm and ranch life in the wide open spaces of “the pioneer West.” These influences continually reappear as she writes of her life, both past and present. She lives on the Hamakua Coast. No part of Guennigirl’s writings may be reproduced in any form without having obtained prior written consent from Guennigirl.)
May 18th, 2010 at 2:50 pm
Minor point, but Shanghai has always been know as Shanghai, but Peking is now known as Beijing
May 18th, 2010 at 8:15 pm
Thanks for the correction. I thought that’s what Dad told me, but somewhere along the way I got it wrong. Thanks.
May 23rd, 2010 at 2:37 pm
Your past is only as important as you want it to be.
My past with certain people is increbile important.
I would like to re-ytry my past at times.
June 12th, 2010 at 11:26 pm
The life of every person in the world is influenced by one’s environment, the events in one’s life, and so many other variables. All of that unavoidably becomes our past. Therefore, our present, soon to be our past, constantly shapes the person we are. So, whether we realize it or not, our past is of tremendous importance, whether on a conscious or a subconscious leverl. Even if we choose to forget, ignore, or discount our past —- that very decision to do that, shapes us.