My Sand Box

I remember it was a bright sunny morning as I stood in the front door of the trailer house. I always watched my bare feet because the melt doorway could burn the bottom if I step on it. Sometimes I lost my balance and my little hand would get burnt by the hot melt. I was watching my Grandpa Ansil Graber shovel out dirt for my new sand box. He was the tallest man I had ever seen as he smiled down at me, I noticed my father and Papa Rudy Klein bring bags of sand to the spot where these men worked. I remember being really happy by the colorful buckets and shovels, soon my sand box would be built and I would get to play in the cool soft sand! I remember all the excited when it was finished, when my Dad tossed me up into the air! I had my very own play ground and I remember all the hours I build sandy mountains and used my imagination to tell a story as I played, I usually took off my diaper because the sand would get stuck in there as I played. How funny that I can remember ALL of this......Maybe that is why I loved that sand box so much because both my Grandfathers and Dad made it for me, When I was 3 years old we moved away from St. Maries Idaho where this sand box stayed behind and I cried! I was truly upset when I realized We would never be back to that lot again. My Parents were busy and told me to "Dry it UP" but then when my Dad finally asked me why I was sobbing so much I pointed back at my sand box saying "I want my sand box to come with us!" Then I cried so hard, it was traumatic for me, suddenly I realized we were moving for the very first time in my memory and life.
Was it the sand box or the fact I could remember when it was built? Was it my comfort zone when I played there everyday or was it that I didn't want to loose my security of the familiar?  I use to think that sand box was the ONLY thing I ever had that was my very own. My siblings were babies or being born when I was given a gift that only I truly understood was my own. Because after that sand box I had to share everything else the rest of my life. I wonder if having that sand box was when my memory took shape and I knew I NEVER wanted to forget my sand box days?


Daddy held me in his arms as we looked across the valley to where our trailer home was being pulled out from it's lot by a white semi truck. He pointed from our packed car in his parents driveway saying "Look Debby there goes our home!" I burst out crying again as I said "MY sandbox!" He chuckled as he patted my back "I will make you a even bigger sand box in our new place okay?" As we said our goodbyes to Grandma and Grandpa I thought it was amazing that they were crying too! It was nice to know that everyone loved my sand box too:-)