Memories of a Childhood Lost: Narative

It all comes back in a rush, this lost memory plays itself back in the theater of my mind. All of a sudden I find myself again, as if I was torn from a dream. I find tears on my face. I’m crying and I can’t stop. And I think how much better things were back then, when innocence was abundant and life wasn't so lifelike.

I found it on a day like any other, checking my Facebook, something I do regularly. I had the computer open to my Mom’s Page, completely oblivious as my hands deftly clicked an album titled ‘Kids Pics.’ A picture popped up of me and my sister when we were younger. I looked at the next picture, and then the next. Taking in each snapshot of my childhood with ease, then moving on. “Click, click... click . . . . . .” That’s when I saw it. The picture that kindled a flame that had been smothered under a cloak of self-deception for years.

Now it burns brightly before my tired eyes and wraps me in it’s contents, sweeping me away to that day 5 years ago, a day that was previously lost to my recollection.

A breath of crisp, cool, Autumn air. My Mom is sitting beside me. We are in the backyard of our house. “... that's why I don’t believe in such things.” She said, smiling at me with a kind of fondness only a mother can have. It used to confuse me, how much a mother cares for her children. I couldn't comprehend how anyone could love someone so much. But I knew I liked it. That feeling of being loved. My Mom was my best friend; I could tell her everything and she always seemed to understand just what I meant. She made me feel grown up. How she talked about the world and its workings. She would listen to my opinions as if they truly mattered. As if I could honestly make a difference. We were having a conversation of that sort now. Me telling her how I felt about things, while she listened and showed her approval. We laughed as she pulled out the camera. “Look at our feet!” She said. And took a picture of our feet together in the grass. “I love it.” She stated enthusiastically. “Me too!” I added. She talked and I listened with content, she was so passionate when she spoke, like she was enlightened with knowledge. And I thought, when I grow up I want to be just like Mommy...

That’s when the memory fades and I come crashing back to reality at an astonishing pace. Tears filled my vision as I mourned the loss of a time when reality didn't have such a bitter taste, because as the world changed, my life changed too.