I was doing a trip down memorylane yesterday, remembering things from my childhood. I always felt I have very few memories, because as a child I was bullied in school and many memories are either bad or behind shut doors in my mind to where I cannot reach consciously. I was thinking of my first childhood home, in which I lived before I was seven. And the memories are so random.
I remember exactly what the home looked like, the floorplan, where the furniture were, the stairs and the terrace, the view, the kitchen, everything. I remember when I was caught eating butter straight from the package. I called the radiostation once when no one was looking. I remember my nanny stepping out for a cigarette and how I would give her hell for it through the shut front door.
I remember when I fell in the bathtub and how the blood mixed with water and how I was fascinated and terrified at the same time. I used to be so scared of a painting in my parents room. I remember how I would run to my neighbor and ring his door, and the joy I would feel when I could see him approaching the door through the stained glass.
I used to love watching Dexters laboratory and Johnny Bravo. I loved to listen to english, and I spoke it by the age of five. I once tried to demolish the radio because I thought there were little men trapped inside. I also thought that the world at some point had been black and white and then one day everything had been color and I used to try to imagine how it would be to wake up that morning.
I loved my neihgbours backyard, it was full of statues, and we would sneak in to look at them. I also remember being scared of airplanes, hiding when they flew over. I remember how frustrating it was not being able to communicate in finnish with the neighbor kids. I remember the squirrels we would see on our way home from kindergarden. I remember the first death in the family, seeing my mother cry for the first time when her cousin died. I remember a birthday and one particular boy, or not the boy, but his bowtie. No one else had a bowtie.
I remember when my brother brought us a game console, the first ever. And how he built a indestructible lego airplane. I remember when my parents went to australia for two weeks and how we would look at the map to see where it was and how there was a long lag when they called. I remember how I learned to go to the toilet in the night and stop bedwetting and how proud I was. And how I would tell stories about how I would fly away on my toy horse in the night and my sister believing me. My best imaginery friends were batman and robin. And I loved playing Zorro, sword and everything. I remember a curtain that got a fair share of Z drawn all over it.
So random, like fragments. My sister remembers so much more than I do, but these are just a few memories I remember and have stuck for some reason. I wonder what memories will stick with my daughter!