Monday, 3 April 2017

A Memory

(This isn't my memory; it's one of Seven Answers).

I am being held on my mother's hip while we wave goodbye to some friends of theirs.  We are standing outside our house watching as they get into their car within the walled courtyard.  The sun is shining and we are smiling and waving but I know that beyond the wall to the left as you walk along towards the chickens in the farmyard the path dips down and there it is always cold and feels wrong.  The dog doesn't like walking past and always hesitates before running through and up the slope beyond.  When my mother carries me that way I can feel her unease as we pass through and relief as we move beyond.  The awareness of this is there as I wave in the sunshine and the security of my mother's arms.

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