I woke up today with the urge to capture more of my memories. In a post from a few days back, I borrowed the format of the wonderful memoir from Joe Brainard, where memories are simply stated, each one preceded by the words I remember. I’ll do the same here today.
I remember buying pick n mix at Johnson’s newsagents. I remember how Mr. Johnson would tip the sweets on the counter, and count them one by one with a shaky finger. I remember how Mr. Johnson Jr. would not.
I remember learning how to ride a bike for the first time in Gheluvelt Park. I remember how thrilling it felt to realize that my father was no longer holding onto the bike—and how terrifying it felt, too.
I remember joining the cub scouts. I remember being so excited for my turn to raise the flag. I remember my bottle-green jumper and getting my first patch for first aid. I remember wearing it proudly.
I remember the first time I got my own bedroom instead of sharing with my sisters or parents. I remember my father still reading bedtime stories, but having to sit in between our bedrooms to make it fair.
I remember the walk to primary school, carrying my bright yellow book bag emblazoned with the three black pears. I remember the lollipop lady who helped us cross the street. I remember how kind she was.
I remember playing a tree in a school play of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I remember being wrapped in brown foam and needing a green jumper. I remember turning the cub scouts one inside-out.
I remember being so excited to get new school supplies for the start of a new school year—especially a pencil case. I remember finding a supportive note from my father when I opened it for the first time.
I remember the hedge that ran the perimeter of the school fields, including both infant and primary school. I remember a few of us crawling behind it so we could go play with the older kids.
I remember trading pogs with other boys on the playground. I remember that some boys had lots of pogs, and I didn’t have many. I remember not minding all too much; I remember just noticing it.
I remember the uniform of grey trousers, white shirt and striped tie in primary school. I remember how the summer uniform was the same, except that the formal grey trousers became formal grey shorts.
I remember the teacher who used to open the fire escape when it got too stuffy in the classroom. I remember how she’d stand in the doorway spinning her arms like a windmill to make us all laugh.
I remember when Pokémon cards got banned at school. I remember the boy who still brought his in. I remember hearing a rumor that the head teacher cut them in half. I don’t remember if it was true.