For instance, take my Great Aunt Bess,
Whose hair was like white gold,
Like a halo - like a cloud,
She died when I was three years old.

 

And that's all that I remember,
Just Aunt Bess's cloud-spun hair,
Funny little memory,
Tucked snugly in somewhere.

 

My granddad had a half-sister,
I didn't know they came that way,
She looked pretty whole to me,
And I still remember her today.

 

But the thing I most remember
Is she owned a gramophone,
It had a crank one turned by hand,
And tin-like music came from cones.

 

I was four, when I last saw her,
Why do I remember this?
A half-great aunt with music cones,
That picture still persists.

 

My mother never had a sister,
So she made sure to give me one,
We shared a room together,
I did not know then it was fun.

 

Sibling rivalry put us at odds,
We drew an imaginary line,
One half the room was on her side,
The other half was mine.

 

If one so much as put a toe
Upon the other's side,
Hell hath no fury like that displayed,
Along with thoughts of sororicide.

 

We each had a window on our side,
How dare she look through mine?
But I often peeked through hers,
From my side of the line.

 

Funny memories make me laugh,
Funny memories make me cry,
I don't understand the ones I've kept,
And I have no idea why.

 

I remember mother's corset,
It had cords and bones and stays,
And mom would put the darned thing on,
Nearly every day.

 

It pinched her flesh; I know it did,
It gave her no enjoyment,
And yet she wore that torture rack,
Like some law enforced requirement.

 

I never saw my daddy's neck,
I wasn't sure he had one,
He wore ties and collars all the time,
Which could not have been much fun.

 

He wore his sport shirts, buttoned high,
Was that a fashion trend?
I wonder if he had a chest,
I never thought about it then.

 

But my brother had a chest,
I caught him looking in the mirror,
Searching hard for manly hairs,
That (tee hee) never did appear.

 

I have many pleasant memories,
And happy thoughts of all,
But there are these nagging, little things,
That I somehow still recall.

 

If you, too, think my memories
Are strange or seem bizarre,
You may be right, my perceptive friend,
But that's the way things are.

 

Those memories do not fade away,
In fact, some grow stronger over time,
Funny memories tug my heart strings,
Funny memories tease my mind.

 

Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright January 2004