remembering

being i am not sleeping much these nights

my mind has been remembering

all sorts of details.

last night

in a brilliant

but unsuccessful attempt to sleep

i decided to

journal at 2 am

and i found myself

listing memories from

way.back.when.

my earliest memory

that my parents have told me

actually is true

is when i was 3 years old

lying in my crib.

i remember that we had spent the weekend

at my uncles house and i had been to the beach.

i can remember playing under the dock

and the crunching of the stones

somehow i managed to get a

very serious sun burn on my thigh

and so,

there i was,

lying in my crib,

with a bandaged leg

and there were all these grown ups looking down at me

and talking about my leg.

i can still sense their presence around me

speaking softly and smiling.

they seemed so caring and full of concern.

it must have been evening

because they were wearing their coats

 to go home.

my room was just beside the front door of the house

and my crib was along the wall that shared the hallway.

why do i remember this of all things?

why do we remember some experiences as so significant

and let others go forever?

last night i was able to remember

at least one significant

(to me)

memory or experience

until i reached about age 10.

then i forgot.

and then around 12

 i started remembering  again.

i have decided to explore

these memories

and see what they hold for me.

perhaps nothing or perhaps something.

it is a curiosity.

i like curiosities

and who better to be curious about than ourselves.