Cakes are made of flour and eggs but memories are what we are made of. They say memories and experiences make us the way we’re in the present. I don’t know. Maybe we’ve other innate qualities too. Or maybe we’ve forgot some of those memories which still control the way we are now. From what age is your first memory? What were you doing? What are the images you still can recall vividly in your mind?
I remember when I was two years old, I used to sit in the windowsill, looking through the window: giant blocks, tiny green trees and vehicles speeding up the blinding road. I talked to them all, I told them stories invented by one who wasn’t versed in the outside world yet. They were my first grand auidence.
I remember the first time I saw my mother cry, it was because of me and I tried to comfort her by playing improvised tunes in our old piano.
I remember the foaming chocolate milshake with muffins my mother prepared each Thursday at five o’clock for my sis and I, just before she went to work. That’s how I started to love Thursdays.
I remember my first time in another country when I looked at the sky knowing there were something different and impposible to explain about it.
I remember when I was given a purple and pink jumper for my sixth birthday with the picture of a Japanese little girl on it. It was ‘my special garment’.
I remember the clink of my second grade teacher’s bracelet when she bent over my table to mark my exercises. The bracelet was made from china and was white with a light blue mosaic pattern on it.
I remember being nine or ten years old. It was Saturday, My parents had taken us to the countryside. Then we’d had pizza for dinner and ended the day by watching together a rented film (About Smichdt). When I went to bed I was smiling and for the first time I conciously felt that I was happy.
I remember the weight of the head of my two-year-old sister on my shoulder when I was telling her a story and she just fell asleep.