a muddy memory

It was Daniel, Darren and I.
We were an inseperable three at the time.
(Okay, so they were the inseperable, I was the tag-along...)
We were out in the sand box at our old place on center street, innocently playing,
like we did on a regular basis.
I don't remember the procedure of the process...
who dragged the hose over to the sand box, whose idea it was in the first place,
but I do remember the three of us shaping and forming perfect mud balls in our little hands,
and throwing them with all our might towards the white shed of our neighbour's only feet away from the edge of our backyard.
And then I remember the spankings we got, and how we had to clean up after ourselves once our neighbour came and told our parents.
So much for a wonderful day in the neighbourhood.

my red carpet moment

We were watching a movie...
I don't remember which one.
It was later in the evening...
I wasn't much older than three.
(If I remember correctly)
I always thought the carpet was red...
but I'd have to clarify that.
(It may have been green)
And I remember as he staggered into the house,
yelling, angry.
And then he got sick.
He threw up...
right there on the living room floor.
This was my red carpet moment.
(or was it green?)
Thanks for the memories.

a tragedy in itself

I don't remember my birth.
How sad.
Tragic really.
Coming into the world, and yet...
not even realizing it.
*sigh*
I don't recall any feelings I felt as I left the safety of my mother's womb, nor do I remember the feeling of inhaling that first fresh breath of air.
I don't remember the way that my father held me, or the way that I clung desperately to my mother's breast, searching for the warmth of her breastmilk in my tiny mouth.
I don't even remember how my brother cradled me in his arms for the first time.

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Though this very well may not be the easiest way to record and keep track of the events thus far in my life, I figured it was due time that I took more time to do so.

The memories scrawled, or should I say typed on this blog are memories that have been embedded into my mind, even now, and although may seem insignificant, are very important pieces in a puzzle that has yet to be completed.

All memories are told from the view point of myself, unless stated otherwise, and are therefore the sole judgements of myself as well.

May the memories continue.