Saturday, February 12, 2011

Remember childhood?

 

Lazy summer days and warm nights sitting on the porch? I remember sun-tea in my grandparent's back yard and losing small toys in the pool filter. Digging in the dirt with sticks, because I liked being dirty.

I remember going to the drive-in with cousins and my favourite aunt. Motorcycle rides with my grandfather, and walking to the market with my dad for salami and mustard. I remember my toy room, full of barbies; and telling my baby cousin stories in the middle of the night when we were supposed to be sleeping.

I remember nap-time in Catholic school and a library shaped like a dome. I remember my third grade teacher - Mr. Wakefield-Evans, who used to share his croissants with me.

I remember these things like they happened to someone else. When did I get so grown-up and unhappy with life?

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2 comments:

Anonymous said...

This gives your mother a sad face...

Jade said...

If you're my mother, I'm sorry.
If you're not my mother, sign up for a user ID already! :)

I sort of assumed that being unhappy at times is sort of growing up. It'll pass, I'm certain of it. Didn't you always used to tell me that I wouldn't be the same way forever? That someday I'd feel differently, and look back on a certain point in time and realise that there's more to life? I think that part is still coming (again).

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