Friday, October 7, 2011

Childhood memories, good and bad


Reconnecting with old friends on facebook has me reminiscing about growing up in the islands. No matter where we grew up, I'm sure we all have recollections of family, friends, frenemies, enemies, and all those in between. Who are some of the people you remember from your past?
-The next door neighbor who, while playing mud fight in the yard, was yelling and got a mouthfull of mud. And the rest of us trying to calm her down and wipe the mud out so we didn't get into trouble.
-The siblings/cousins who played in grandma's yard during a rainstorm and ruined the grass resulting in a well deserved spanking and immediate trip to the outdoor bath.
-The people you've known since elementary school and how everyone seemed to drift into their own groups during high school (yet remained friendly regardless).
-The special swimming place nicknamed "the rock" where the family would go and come home with many cuts but stories of the fish we saw while swimming.
-Delivering cookies, cakes, and pies to family and friends during the Christmas holiday; singing Christmas carols while driving down the road; counting all the houses/fale's that had Christmas trees; giving a plate of cookies to the police officers at the road blocks.
-Saying my tauloto in church during White Sunday and always being the narrator in the Sunday School plays.

I have so many memories of going to the beach during Christmas, running around in the mountains during summer vacation, climbing trees, playing homemade cricket in the yard, riding bikes down rocky hills,... What kinds of memories am I building with my own children? Especially since they are not able to grow up in the islands?
-Building an igloo during Christmas vacation
-Going to the zoo, aquarium, pool during summer breaks
-Playing homemade cricket in the driveway with boards and several tennis balls
-Family movie night on Friday nights watching and re-watching movies from the past and present

Making these lists have made me realize that memories are memories, no matter where they are made. As long as they are made.

No comments:

Post a Comment