In the year 1976, my papa’s father went out looking for better work, and he
finally found it, but it was in a different state. In fact, he had to drive
over 160 miles to the interview. But he got the job! But of course, he
couldn’t do that every single day, since it would take him almost three
hours each time! So he moved the whole family to a city called Buffalo,
Wyoming. You may have heard of the Buffalo in New York, but you can actually
have two different cities with the same name. It happens all the time.
Anyway, the house they moved into was a lot bigger, because grandpa’s job
was a lot better, so he was making a lot more money. My papa and his sister
now had their own separate rooms, but the dog still always slept in my
aunt’s room. I don’t know why. Before he died, papa told me that his first
memory was of this new house in Wyoming, which he thought of as his
first house, even though he lived in another one before, when he was
a baby. Have you ever thought about your first memory? I do all the time.
You probably don’t remember being a really little baby. What papa said is
that he remembered playing in the leaves with his sister and a neighbor
while their parents watched from the porch. He says that it was a lot of
fun, but it had just rained, so the leaves were still a little bit wet and
slimy. My first memory was when I was about the same age too, but it’s not a
happy one, so my dad told me that I shouldn’t put it on the slide. I’m glad
that my papa had a good memory for his first one.
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