Adrian Mehr
Professor Windy Sumner-Winters
English Composition 1010
06, November 2007



Earliest Memory


By



V. Adrian Mehr







The first thing I remember about my life, is the day my grandfather died. I can still see parts of the day in my mind, without any help from outside sources. He had wanted to start visiting all of the “kids”, almost as if he knew how the day was going to unfold. I have no recollection of how far down the list he got, but I do remember our house, which was next door, was the first stop. Very soon after at one of my aunt’s, he had heart attack, which was not the first one, and fell off the back of a four wheeler that my uncle was driving. The folding chase he sat in, which was the last at our house,. remains in the storage building where my mother placed it to this day, my grandmother did like wise with the clothes he was wearing that day. It was as if both of them were saying “out of sight, out of mind.”, with their actions, but not their words.
I clearly remember making a mud “sculpture” with the sprinkler and my naked three year old body. This meant getting hosed off and showered, which I don’t remember, however, I do remember us being the last to arrive at my aunt’s house, which I do remember. Some things don’t change and neither dose being given hell for it either.
I can remember some of my relatives faces, from around the room, their clothes, their dramatics, some of them seemed to be putting on a show, especially the ones closer to my age, but for who? The dead? I on the other hand, seemed to not understand, that he was “gone” & wondered why my peers were in such a tizzy, they could not have know any more then I, could they? But now being on the other side of life, I think what I was feeling then is what I now call now “clairvoyance” and maybe knew and saw more than even the adults did that day.
Even though I was only almost four when he died, I remember and love my grandfather, as well as being able to see his influence in my life, from the candy I enjoy, “lemon drops” and “red hots”, because he always bought them for me, to the way I carry my self and go about life. In contrast to the stuffing of reality and holding onto the past of my grandmother, as well as being late all the time from my mother and making a big deal about it, like my aunts.
I do miss him, but seem not to be as sad and down cast, like most of the rest of my family, was and seems to be still, but maybe I have more hope or maybe I like him can see what lays ahead.

Adrian Mehr
Professor Windy Sumner-Winters
English Composition 1010
06, November 2007



a Family tradition.
Or
Two pages of bull shit.


Shitted by


V. Adrian Mehr






I have no idea what to write, because in my family, nothing is ever the same, except that nothing is ever the same. We, my brothers and I, really only had my mom’s side of the family. My dad’s parents were divorced when he was a child and then my grandmother illegally moved him across country, where he eventual met my mom. It’s funny how that happens. however my grandmother seemed to care more for “deadbeats” that made her look good over her flesh and blood. My grandfather, his father , who he had regained contact with as an adult, died while I was in the womb
My younger brother and I were the youngest of four boys and our mother the youngest of four girls, putting most of the next generation born before us. Therefore, all the fun together things that bring a family close had been forced like the farce they were, as long as they could be and were over for us.
My family, what the hell, I’ll be honest. ALL My family is “turned funny”! This part of my family never let anyone in, unless you were “with it”, as if they knew what that meant in “Hicksville”. They sure thought they did, but that we didn’t. Ah! The refreshing life as an outcast! Little did I know how much I would pull from that later in life. Looking at it from that angle makes sense now. We are given trials and whatnot and we have the choice to grow and go on with life, or like most of my family, sit and wither away.
I have seen enough rabble rousing, back biting, disregard, disloyalty, disharmony, dishonesty, both know and unknown, all form “good” people that “love” each other, that I hope to be on the road of rooting and eliminating it from my own life.
I have to tell this story. One year, several of the older members of the family conspired to get our branch of the clan to my grandmother’s on “time” for Christmas dinner, so they told my mother a different time than what was told everyone else. My brother, who would later disown most of us, was in town, for what would be his last Christmas at my grandmother’s before she died. This put us with a full house and one bathroom. After, or maybe I should say during the phone call, the rest of us see the receiver fly across the room and hit the floor. “It’s at 5 o’clock and not 6, did I forget to tell you?” my aunt had told my mother. It was around four and the turkey was not quite done and no one was ready. However we had pull, we had to bring the main course. So dinner was at six and it had to be dealt with. My aunt never tried that one again.