In the midst of my moth-eaten childhood memory, a fragment re-emerged rather distinctively recently. I recall that familiar sense of fear each time this sliver of fuzzy memory came into focus.
It is a memory of a photo.
The subject was my 1-year-old brother. He was sitting on a golden furry blanket, with a cake next to him. On it was a single candle burning brightly to celebrate his first birthday. Behind him was a huge picture of a blue lake with surrounding greenery. The view was spectacular.
But the 3-year-old me couldn't rejoice in the celebration. Each time I peeped at the photo, I couldn't help but be furious with my parents.
Why on earth would my parents allow my young brother to sit on the edge of a lake??? What would happen if he were to fall into the water? Nobody would be there to catch him! And he couldn't swim! Besides, nobody would be around to save him!
What were my parents thinking?! Why did they put him in such danger?! How could they do that to him?
Many terrible thoughts ran through my juvenile mind.
My then naive thinking couldn't process the fact that the picture was taken in a studio and that the photo-shooting was long over.
I remember I couldn't bear those paranoid thoughts even at that young age. I was worrying myself sick. So I put the photo away and never laid eyes on it again.
Distracted by play, kindergarten, school, and other grander scheme of things, I forgot all about the photo.
Until recently. When the image re-surfaced in my consciousness again.
I have to but smile at my own silliness over this fond interlude.
No comments:
Post a Comment