Saturday, 24 October 2015

30-day Writing Challenge - Day 2

Earliest Memory

Now this is tough for me.  I barely remember what happened yesterday let alone last week.  Last month is a blur and a year ago may well have been a hundred years ago as far as my memory is concerned.  I used to worry about my poor memory and then I decided my brain was either making space for other important things OR I have very little space OR I'm secretly a psychopath and attach no meaning of any kind to emotional events that happened to me.  But enough dwelling - to task!

I do have issues with memories.  Are they actually mine or are they the remembered version of someone else who has told me and I have remembered the telling.  For instance as a small child I ate the cat food - no memory of that.  As a little girl I allegedly got in the way of a cow's backside - no memory of that.  My Nana and Grandad used to own a farm and I know we spent a lot of time there during school holidays.  I learnt how to milk a goat, gathered eggs from ducks and picked all manner of berries but I don't remember these things.  There is a snatch of my Grandad singing to his goats as he milks them.  There is a sliver of fear from looking into the supply train carriage in the pitch black and not knowing what else is in there.  I remember shivering like mad after getting out of the green bath in the enormous bathroom whose windows froze in the wintertime.  Hey - look at that, a real memory.  I also recall my step sister stealing all the covers when we shared the bed once, I woke up chilled to the bone and unable to wake her went to sit in the dining room and cried as young children do.  My Nana came to the rescue and, after a cup of tea, cuddle and a biscuit, space was made for me and all was right with the world again.

Anything further back from the halcyon days of Pantglas Farm are non-existent.  I can tell you facts but no associated memories.  My baby brothers sadly died before I got to know them.  My parents separated then divorced.  Both parents found love again and new families were built.  I spent time in a welsh-speaking primary school learning to speak and sing in Welsh.  The only things I take from my early years are a fierce bond with my Mum, huge protective feelings towards my family and the importance of celebrating family events with delicious homemade foods.  It speaks to me of a foundation of love, protection and cake.  No bad thing.

(I'm the one feeding the goat)

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