Donna Ulisse

#1...From The Earliest Time!

Okay, there are some stories we have repeated from as early as we could form sentences so that we're never quite sure if it's an honest memory or something told to us so many times we think we really remember it happening. I am struggling with that as I type. I am sure this is an honest memory because I remember the "feel" of it also.

I am about three, just barely three, with long, curly, dark hair (my Italian traits shining like a hairy beacon) and feeling like the most special girl in the world because I was and still am a daddy's girl! One thing my father always did was sneak me out on Sunday mornings before church time and take me for a ride in his car. This act solidified our relationship, taught me to have a rebel streak and helped me learn to look at my mother as the nay sayer and killjoy that she has remained to this very day but we love her just the way she is!

He used to be a race car driver but mom made him put a halt to that when I was born or at least she thought she did. Being the first born is a tough job. I have to be responsible for being the reason there was no more drag racing, no more smoking cigarettes, no more going dancing and so on and so on. It's a wonder my folks loved me at all... ha ha. Anyway, I knew at that young age that we were sneaking and that my dad was being defiant and driving REALLY fast. He would have all of the windows down in his Buick and let me stand in the back seat, leaning over the front seat. There were no laws about car seats then, can you imagine? (The other thing I would like to point out is that the dinosaurs had become extinct by this time just a few years before I was born!) My long hair would be whipping in the wind, blinding me and probably my dad (another really scary thought since he was driving REALLY FAST). He would have that car radio blaring so loud that it was more distortion than music and he and I would be singing to the tops of our lungs..."Take this hammer, carry it to the Captain." I would be filled with such joy, feeling that wind tangling those brown tresses into a nightmare for my mother and the speed of the car and my father's voice singing loudly in my ear, knowing that he and I were working together behind my mother's back to have this kind of fun. There was a stretch of road going down Armistead Avenue that was winding and curvy and dangerous, all of which filled me and my daddy's hearts to bursting!..wow! Weren't we something? I suppose if I were my mother now I would "take that hammer" to the top of my father's noggin.

Of course our little trek would come back down to a great acting job when we turned into our driveway. Mother would be inside cooking breakfast and tending to my baby brother Jimmy and we would come whistling in like nothing exciting had happened. I am thinking that she knew, she had to. I mean, my hair for goodness sakes! She must have worked hours to get the knots out before church. I wonder if she smelled the wind in my clothes and I also wonder if my smiles gave away anything, especially since my dad couldn't quit winking at me behind my mother's back. That was all so gloriously fun! I think I'll just close my eyes now and feel the wind, hear my dad singing and enjoy the Sunday morning drive. Until the next trip down memory lane folks, I'll stay yours truly.