Memories

When I was little, my mother once said to me, that when we grow up we'd find ourselves forgetful. And the things that we once did, will be slowly but eventually be forgotten.
Slowly, as we grow up into adults, we'd tend to forget much of our childhood.

I use to think that it is impossible for memories to slip past us.
How my parents say to me "Too many things to remember" and got off with forgetting important dates, or stuff from the past, things that I asked but they cannot remember.

I don't know why, but as a little girl. The thought of not remembering certain things dear to me scared me.
I'd get all troubled over the fact that I would grow up and forget.
Perhaps forget the friends I once had, the silly things we did before, the school I loved, the teachers that hollered at me, the school canteen's food that I loved, the 10-cent syrup drink we buy everyday, the journals we use to have to fill up every single day...
Well, you get my drift.

I remembered that fear when I was a kid, and it stayed on with me years later.

So since I was in primary school, every once in a while, I'd sit down and remember about the interesting stuff I did last year, last month or last week.
Then I'd think..
This is easy, I can remember.
Because sometimes I really do remember all the interesting stuff. It replays at the back of my head just like that.
From the hide-and-seeks that we played when we were in school. Where the entire school was our playground.
I remember hiding under piano seat, beneath the piano covers in the music room. When our friends came round to seek us, we had to be ultra silent even though we were struggling to breathe.
Come to think of it, I think we could have nearly died.
And I meant it in every sense of the word.

It is an amazing gift to remember the finest of details.
Sometimes the simplest of memories bring a smile to my face.
For me, it always happens in flashbacks.
It's like the scene that you remember replays in your mind over. And you see yourself and your friends back in your old school, doing the silly stuff all over.
But when I start digging back into those memories and forcing it to replay, the images start to become dark and hazy. I know it is starting to fade.
And there just seems to be nothing I can do about it.

When I read about Professor Dumbledore's pensieve, I was truly envious.
I wish we could have something like that.
Taking your memories off your head via that thin silvery line into a bowl, where all will be stored, until you choose to view it once more at a later date.
Wouldn't it be nice?