Last night, I drew another prompt from the writing prompt box I recently created:
Write about the first song that comes to mind.
Music…a song…can take me back in time faster than almost anything, except perhaps a scent. So, I enjoyed this prompt.
I’m sure it will be obvious to you that I changed a name to protect the innocent. And, it’s funny how the mind fills in details that have been forgotten, so perhaps there are a couple of minor embellishments. But it’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
Following is the song and the story that first came to mind. I would LOVE to hear about the story behind the first song that comes to your mind!
One of my most romantic moments came when I was in fourth grade. Back then, romance was made of fairy tales, of princes on white stallions and happily-ever-afters.
I was born in California, and in the next five years we moved to bases in Texas, where Cyndie was born; Georgia, where Kim was born; and Bermuda, where Tami was born. Finally, we returned to California again, where my brother, Chuck, was born. From then, I was lucky enough to be in one place from first through fourth grades, long enough to be lulled into a sense of getting to stay in one place.
But at the end of my fourth grade year, the fairy tales and happily-ever-afters faded away and the world became all-too-real again when I learned we’d be moving from the home I loved in California to a dusty Air Force Base in Altus, Oklahoma.
It was bad enough that I had to leave my friends, but move to Oklahoma? We were going to be Okies? Even in my pre-pre-teen years, I’d already decided I was much more suited to being a California girl than an Okie.
Not to mention I’d just learned that Billy Bobblehead, a boy I’d known since first grade, had a crush on me. Having just graduated from the “cooties” stage—when my friends and I wrote “C.V.” on our palms to vaccinate ourselves against catching “cooties” from the opposite sex—Billy Bobblehead was my first crush. Or, more accurately, he was the first boy to profess his crush on me. I’d had secret crushes on boys since kindergarten, but “C.V.” had prevented those crushes from coming to light. But this was fourth grade — serious stuff.
So, my heartache about leaving California was intensified by the fact I’d never see this love come to full bloom.
But it was after we moved that my first romantic moment—a memory that will live in infamy forever—happened. Maybe it’s because it happened at my saddest moment, when I missed my friends, missed being “crushed.” I learned about it in a letter I received from a very-missed friend:
You’ll never believe what Billy Bobblehead did after you left…
I hesitated to read on, dreading that Billy had already found himself another. But, with a lump in my throat, eyes burning with impending tears, I bravely read on.