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During a recent trip back to the home that houses most of my treasured childhood memories, my mother abruptly halted the evening conversation after our kids had successfully been pressured into slumber, and disappeared up the creaky old farmhouse steps with an alarming twinkle in her eye. y siblings and I cast concerned looks around that cherished living room and waited impatiently for her to reappear. After a couple of mysterious clunks and a few discordant curse words came from the attic, my saintly mother descended back into an expectant room with several dusty and incriminating photo albums. She proudly recounted and entertained us with the “highlights” of our developmental journey while in her care. She pointed out the first steps, the first days, the graduations, the weddings, and the babies. She talked of the highs. My brothers made sure to point out the lows. And I remembered the “in-betweens.” Pimples and puberty preceded cuddling and canoodling which led to wisdom and weddings. Silliness and socializing gave way to cutting class and consequences which transitioned to acceptance and achievement. In short, each picture represented a path, a journey, towards whatever moment was captured. There was movement and change behind every story; good, bad, or super smelly. For every moment of maternal pride, there were transitions and turmoil that were integral parts of the process. It is easy as parents, teachers, or semifunctional adults to forget the nitty gritty details and the incredible angst created by the movement between each developmental stage, seasonal change, social steps, and environmental shift that we experienced in our youth. But childhood and adolescence isn’t just sprinkled with transitions, it is created by them. continued on page 9



September 2017


Profile for Deanna Johnson

YC Magazine Helena Sept2017  

YC Magazine Helena Sept2017