Sweet Memories

I'm in my twenties, and only few years ago I found out that my mom had kept a journal about me. She wrote about my birth and the days that followed it. Actually she has recorded my habits, likes, dislikes, and also the words I used to speak when I was a little girl. After I read it, I somehow felt calm. Like I knew all of this, but was reading and making sure it was all there. All the words that I knew were alphabetically categorized and the funny sentences that came from me were highlighted. What was so important about me that she wrote all that? Maybe I don't understand this because I'm not a mother yet. And that's not all.. my dad used to take tons of pictures of me.

There are over 200 pictures of me in rusty, old albums which I stole from my grandfather's place. I look at them at least once a week. They remind me of my beautiful childhood days. I remember I used to come home from school, finish my homework, and run like a crazy person to my friends in the evening. Not only that, when it started to get dark, my grandmother used to yell my name to call me home. I would run from wherever I would be, without my slippers, covered in dirt, sweating, filthy, and go straight to the dinner table. I would get a huge lecture of how I should behave like a girl and not be like a boy. But who cared? I would concentrate more on the food that was in front of me. I would freshen up, run back to the table, and eat like I've been hungry forever. All kids do this, don't they? Or was it just me? I like to think that all kids do, makes me feel good about myself.

Being young is an amazing experience. One of the best memories of my life. Whatever I am, I am because of it. And I wouldn't change one thing about it. My world is full of memories thanks to my parents. They gave me my childhood back with the journal and the pictures. I will cherish them for the rest of my life.