Remembering …

I am playing with my friends in our fort in the woods when we hear crying and screaming. We run out and somebody yells to me that one of my brothers is hurt. I don’t know which one until I see J running towards our townhouse. His arm looks massively disfigured. I chase after him and am immediately ushered to the neighbour’s house. I cry. I am worried. What has happened to my brother? I later find out he had fallen off a 10- foot slide and broken his arm in three places. I am 4 and we are living in military housing in Germany.

We are living in Montrose, Scotland. I am 5 or 6 and walking back from my Brownies meeting. The sun is just setting, but I can still feel it’s warmth on my face. I keep as far away from the curb as I can and walk close to the ancient stone wall that encompasses the church where the meetings are held. As I walk, I run my hand along it feeling all its grooves and dents and marvelling how cold it is compared to the warm evening.

I am 2 and we are living just south of Sonoma where my father has been assigned. It has been raining for days and this is the first day it has stopped. I look out the window and see my swing set at the bottom of the garden. It is standing in about a foot of water. I am now outside with my brothers and mother. She is hanging up laundry. I remember all I wanted to do was play on my swing set. I try and climb along our garden fence to stay above the water and get to it. I suddenly hear my mother screaming and yelling at me to stay still. She runs through the water to get me. She hugs me tight and tells me never to do that again.

I am 4. We are living in U.S. Navy housing in Todendorf, Germany. My brothers go out to play and I sneak out behind them with my new shoes on. We jump over a fence and off in to the woods … only I get stuck in mud. I can’t move. I call to my brothers. I think it’s quicksand. They come and rescue me by pulling me out of the mud, leaving my new shoes behind. We walk back home, me in my bare feet, with them telling me I was going to be in deep, deep trouble.

I am sitting in my Granny’s front room in Edinburgh. There is laughter and lots of smoke. I play Sindy dolls with my cousins when all of sudden one of them tells me their Sindy doll is better than mine. I laugh it off responding that dolls are for babies. I am 5.

It is hot. We are waiting in line for our turn on the ride. My dad tells us to wait right there and he’ll be back shortly, but I cry. I don’t want to leave his side. He takes me with him. We buy drinks and when we get back to the line we see my brother is on it, grinning away. I remember that I am not sad I missed my turn. We are on holiday in Washington D.C. where my father is now stationed. He has taken us to the Smithsonian for the day. I am 7.

We are walking along a gravelly path. I skip along beside my mum, kicking the pebbles while holding on to the side of the pram on which my baby sister is laying. We do this a lot. Walking. As a family. Whenever we get too rambunctious or loud, my mum would usher us outdoors for long nature walks as she called them. On this particular route, we always stop on this foot bridge that goes over a river. We peer over the edge and down in to the water below. My brothers throw sticks in to gargling water. I watch and giggle and report which of their sticks I think won the race. And, then we walk some more. I am 4 and we are living in Germany.

This blog post was inspired by Josie’s writing workshop prompt four, Memories of my childhood over at Sleep is for the Weak. I had so much fun with this that I will definitely do it again.

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Tags: life, memories, navy brat, Random, remembering, Thoughts, writing workshop, youth