51 results for 'memories'
People don’t like steps.
They like motions, big ones.
They like to take these leaps of faith and remember that their life, the one they all a sudden once had, even if it were just a moment ago, was a bittersweet one, full of nostalgic remorse.
I look back on so many lives, so many phases of mine, it’s hard to remember which one was the real-est. When do we ever pause in our moments and say, now, everything I feel is me, and everything that I have surrounded myself with is the result of that.
I suppose that’s the continuous struggle with life, isn’t it?
From the court behind the clock-tower a few hundred yards away, I slowly became aware of an unintelligible, yet clearly orchestrated rising and falling chant. It sounded like yet another demonstration, I smiled, heading for the uproar.
The medieval fountain-court at the foot of the tower was a favored venue for heated demonstrations. The stone-paved yard could accommodate several hundred people, and the circular wall that had once surrounded the village fountain, which had not seen water flowing in decades, was regularly used as a podium, from which passionate speeches and pleas were... (more)
Many years ago, I sat in my high school cafeteria, talking with friends. For some reason, the subject of mothers came up. My mother was immediately mentioned as the sweetest mom ever. Even girls I barely ever hung around loved my mom. She was just one of those people that made every kid feel special. She was the mom everyone wished they had. She was the mom I always wanted to be.
My friends and classmates loved my parents, even though my parents were never the "cool" parents. They didn't let me have wild, out of control parties. They had a very strict curfew for me. They didn't let me... (more)
My mother tells me that the first snow of the year started covering the city as she was leaving the birthing ward to walk back home, carrying me in her arms, still wrapped in a blanket she’d borrowed from the hospital. A nurse, horrified by the sight of my mother stepping into the storm with a baby, called my grandpa, who drove the streets, seeking us through the falling snow in his big white Opel car – a rare sight those days where walking and buses were the means of moving about. My father, who was studying for his university degree, could not make himself available that day.
...her in mid motion. From somewhere deep inside the dark coolness behind the door she heard the footsteps on the old wooden floors. He was coming, finally. She flattened herself back against the screen and felt it give, bending inwards with her weight. Hurry, her mind shouted silently, hurry uncle, hurry, they're coming, coming now... The loud clanging bell of the Big Ben clock on her nightable woke her from the nightmare for perhaps the thousandth time and she crawled out of bed, wiping the sweat from her brow and shaking off the memories from the darkness. At least, until tonight.(more)
I went out in a bliss of hip shakes and swirls, spinning for a better tomorrow
Forgetting the past--letting go of tomorrow, being in the now as "they" say...
The hula drops.
Pick up the hula, swing it around and here we go again, grasping that rhythm--letting go, letting go---
The trees are beautiful in the sunset, bare and naked with the bird nests stowed up top
The children are playing and laughing--thank goodness childhood still exists--still in my groove
Work it around in a twirl around my hips, I walk the hula this way and that, down low and up... (more)
A stormy Friday winter night. Soft yellow light illuminates the green walls. The room is warm. Two cups of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies on the table.
It’s my grandparents’ place. Shelves full of books. A big drawing on the wall in black and yellow. A man collecting seaweeds in the storm His horse and cart are waiting.
My grandmother is sitting in her couch Watching family drama on TV My grandfather is in the kitchen Delicious smells of cooking hang in the air.
I’m lying on the sofa bed Reading old magazines bound together to keep history alive. Dozens of volumes.... (more)
On top of the mountain facing the sea, where winter wind blew roofs and cars away … 1965
Amongst the fish ponds, where in summer nights clouds of mosquitoes attracted to the light-bulbs turned them dark … 1983
The room in the basement in which two of us would sleep so comfortably in a tiny single bed … 1985
A tin house so cold in the winter that the water in the bathtub turned into a block of ice … 1989
A tiny square room without a window, bath or shower, which I shared with three. Did I enjoy the public bath … 1991
Hideaway in the rain forest where the screeching... (more)
I long for past summers Summers filled with hikesHikes through wild fields Fields of wind swept wonderWonder of a world unknownUnknown loss of innocenceInnocence replaced by knowledgeKnowledge that leads to longingLonging for past summers(more)
My six years old brother, who makes money returning glass bottles to the shop, brings home a donkey he’s bought for a fiver. He wants to keep it, but mother says that the third floor in the middle of town is not a good place for a donkey. My brother takes the donkey round to see if his friend would buy it off him.At dinner my father tells me not put my elbows on the table. I ask him why, and he brings to the table a book called ‘Table Manners’. I promise to read it if he washes the dishes in my stead..I hear my mother screaming: “Either the snakes go or I go,” when she finds the snake boxes... (more)