Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Random Childhood Memories
Isn't it wierd the things you remember from your childhood? Why is it, that some things you remember, and some you dont? Like a dream. We dream, on average, every single night; some dreams you can't remember, but others are so vivid, you can't help but remember them in great detail. I often have childhood memories popping into my head from time to time. Why these particular memories, I don't know.
Like: A boy named Sasha Harris, who stabbed me in the thigh with a pencil (Yes- I remembered his full name) I still have the broken tip of his pencil stuck in my leg. This happened in grade two/standard four. Or an incident when I was ten, when I thought I was going to bleed to death, and cried all day. Because a two year old girl from Sunday school named Nicole (yes, I remember her name, too) pulled on my mole, and it bled. You see, my mom always told me, if I pulled it, I could bleed to death. So here's me: Crying for my impending death, as I watched it bleed all day.
Or the time when I learned to swim in Hermanus, at the age of seven. I was swimming in the sea with my cousin, when I stepped down, and the water level suddenly went over my head. I remember the feeling of almost drowning, and, in my panic, I jumped on my cousin's head, and pushed her under the water. That's when my aunt grabbed me, and said: Right. Today you will learn to swim. And by late afternoon, I could swim froggy style.
My best friend, at the time, when I was ten, Rene- I was sleeping over at her house, but I heard noises in the night, and we woke her dad up. He jumped out of bed, and went through the house in stealth mode, looking for an intruder. In his underpants. Turns out, it was just some branches in the wind, but the sight of my friend's father, with his skinny frame, in his "onnies", will haunt me forever.
One of my mom's early boyfriends taking me for a ride on his motorbike, to impress her.
Meeting my biological dad at the age of nine, for the first time. And realising how much I resembled him irritated his new wife.
Feeling smug, when I threatened a bunch of bullies who were teasing my cousins.
Having an argument with the local cafe owner's son. and being told to leave the shop.
Sleeping in my grandfather's VW combi in Bain's Kloof, because it poured with rain and our tent leaked.
Having a giant mural of Maya the Bee on my wall when I was seven, because that was the in thing to watch at the time.
Singing "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" at the top of my voice, whenever it came on the radio- my mom bragging to all of her friends that I knew all of the words, and demanding impromptu performances. (Why do parents do that- myself included?)
I suppose, if I really sat down and thought about it, I could go on and on. But I digress- because the point of this blog entry is simply to point out the pure randomness of these thoughts, and how strange it is, that some just stick with you forever, and others, you simply forget, as time goes by. I suppose, that these thoughts will be with me forever, until, one day, I don't remember anything anymore.
What do you think your children's random memories will be, when they're grown up?
"To be in your child's thoughts and memories tomorrow, you have to be in their lives today".