Remembering Penelope…

Back in 1969, the year I turned five, Hanna Barbera Productions aired a cartoon entitled Penelope Pitstop. Just for one season, but I found the show and the lead character memorable. Race car driver brave (most of the time!) and extraordinaire, for a time in my childhood she was my role model and idol. So much so that for many years afterwards when asked what my favourite TV show had been as a child I would mention Penelope.

Except for maybe once or twice, my answer would be greeted with a lack of recognition. Very few remembered the show, and at times I would be asked if perhaps I was confusing a character, or it was suggested that maybe Penelope was instead from a printed comic. I’d shake my head, insisting that she had been on TV.

I’m not entirely sure at times whether an excellent memory is a blessing or a curse, but I knew what I knew (the internet has since proven that I had remembered Penelope accurately).

Having grown up as generally quite a shy person, I had assumed that I blended into the background and was easily missed or quickly forgotten as it seemed Penelope had. It didn’t help that I had poor self esteem and didn’t believe that anyone would have reason to remember me.

Things did change a bit over time, career successes brought with them more confidence. However, I maintained the belief that once out of someone’s life that I would also have fallen out of their memory and thoughts.

Through writing this blog and my CBC radio interview, a few people from my past have been in touch to say hello. To my surprise, the emails and phone calls have often started out with the phrase “You probably don’t remember me, but…” I had remembered everyone who has reached out, and with great delight had the opportunity to recount memorable highlights of time spent together.

It amazes me that others sometimes also feel that they’ve not had a significant enough presence to be remembered, it’s not just me who can feel invisible. And I certainly would say for the majority that had reached out that I hadn’t thought of them as lacking in self confidence as I had/have been.

Last night, I unexpectedly received a letter from the mother of one of Suzanna’s friends from elementary school. We hadn’t been in touch since Suzanna and I had moved away to another city eight years ago. This mother and I hadn’t known each other very well, but I have memories of some lovely conversations when we and our girls were together at school events, birthday parties and play dates (my bookish daughter did indeed have somewhat of a social life despite being the homebody that she is!)

The letter was beautiful, and brought tears of joy in reading that Suzanna and I had held a special place in their memories, as they had in ours.

Reminders come along frequently that despite thinking that I haven’t had any significant impact during my time on this earth, I have made footprints. Perhaps sometimes there are ones that I regret having laid down, or wish I had taken in a different direction, but all the same, I was here.

I’m often feeling like I haven’t accomplished even a small part of what I was supposed to in this lifetime, how can one at forty eight? A harsh realization came to me this week when my uncle at ninety was hospitalized once again. I was fondly remembering a few of his many adventures since I was born, he was just a few years younger than I am today. What difference could I make if I were to be around for another forty or more years? It’s only quite recently that I began to accept the idea that my actions and presence have at times made a positive impression in the lives of others.

I know have no idea if the creator of the character of Penelope is still around (I’m feeling very old when I realize it’s well over forty years ago), but I wish that he or she could have known that despite not being well known, Penelope made a difference in the life of a five year old girl a very long time ago.