I hope you’re feeling nostalgic, because the Remember the Time Blog Hop is back from vacation! Emily of The Waiting and I are excited to resume the collective trip down memory lane. If you’re new here and don’t know what the heck I’m talking about, check out the explanation of the RTT Blog Hop here. We would love for new bloggers to link up stories with us, in addition to our old friendly favorites. You can find instructions for how to join at the end of my own blog hop entry.

This week, we are remembering where we were when…we heard some big news …an iconic moment happened …the course of our lives changed……anything along those lines. It can be remembering where you were when a collective cultural event happened, like the death of Princess Diana. Or it can be something only important to you or your loved ones. Just make sure it can complete the sentence, “I remember where I was when…”

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Onion rings. I was eating onion rings in my grandparents’ kitchen. I can still see the powder blue metal cabinets and the wallpaper smothered in tiny strawberries. The linoleum was a cobbled pattern, and in almost the middle of the room was a nail hammered straight into the floor. I used to stare at that nail and wonder if it alone was keeping the entire area of flooring secured to the ground. It seemed so odd in such a glaringly noticeable spot. Yet no one ever seemed to pay any attention to it except for me. And I never asked why it was there. It was as if everyone ignoring its sheer existence meant its purpose should be obvious to me. So I pretended to ignore it as well, and faked the role of someone who knew something I really didn’t. Not that anyone else was concerning themselves with whether or not I knew the reason for the nail in the middle of my grandparents’ kitchen floor.

But they were concerning themselves with making sure I knew the duties of the new role I was about to take on. It was the whole reason I was at my grandparents’ house in the first place. And my unexpected visit, along with the anticipation of celebration that it meant, was just the occasion for take-out from their favorite restaurant. I imagine part of the dinner conversation included assurances of how fun it would be and what new responsibilities and privileges would come with my “promotion.” But I was little at the time, so all I really remember was the onion rings…and staring at the nail in the floor.

Suddenly, the phone rang, and my grandmother disappeared into the hallway. I could tell she was happy. She was saying things like, “Oh, how wonderful!” and “Neat-o!” and “How darling!” I remember the very round apples of my grandfather’s cheeks and the way they protruded as he smiled. Then it was my turn to take the phone.

I stood next to the stairs and brought the heavy olive-green receiver to my ear. That old rotary phone was like a tank. When you hung it up, the receiver always made a click and a thud that was amplified in the special wall enclave in which the phone was housed. The earpiece was still warm from announcing the news to my grandmother.

“Hello?”

I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went. And I can’t even recall if it was my mom or my dad on the other end of the line. But these words, I know, were spoken:

“You have a brand new baby sister.”

My response to this information is no longer a part of my memory. I’m sure I was excited.  But the only really clear recollections I have of that day in March are of those words said though the phone, of the onion rings sitting in a styrofoam container, and of that curious nail in the middle of the floor.

Oh, and I distinctly remember that when we went to see this new little sister in the hospital, and I enthusiastically called her name and shook the toy I had brought her so she would look at it through the nursery window, she had the nerve to not pay one iota of attention to me or my generous gift. But no one else gave any attention to her tiny rude snub. It was almost as if I was supposed to know why a baby would act this way.

I guess I was going to have to fake knowing how to navigate being a big sister. Thankfully, I already had experience doing that with the nail.

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This post is part of the Remember the Time Blog Hop. You can join in, too!

1. Write your post. Remember, it can be ANYTHING about Remembering Where You Were When…! Just try to stick with the whole “back in the day” vibe ;D

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