"El secreta de la vida está en caerse siete veces y levantarse ocho."
-Paulo Coelho

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Memories Of The Morning Rituals



Memory I
2001
What is nicer than to be woken up by daddy on a cold winter morning, lazily get out of bed to go to school, drag naked feet across the cold hardwood floor that I so adored, and then eat breakfast in the warm kitchen while the day slowly begins outside? I think, for a 6/7 year old that's a pretty good start to the day.

Memory II
2000
The smell of Nivea brings back the memory of my kindergarten, of playiing outside and nourishing both rough hands and baby butts with Nivea. Or, sometimes, nourishing faces before making masks out of plaster.

            Memory II.I
            2000
            With Nivea also comes the memory of baking in the kindergarten, all squished into the               little kitchen, asking what to do. I think one of us kids decided to see what butter tastes         
             like pure and concluded that butter is not to eat.

Memory III
1999
Making egg warmers out of felt and soap water. It was so much fun to mix the colors of wool endlessly and endlessly, until finally forming shapes and a less abstract object.

Memory IV
1995-2008
How did I get from morning rituals to good night stories? Who knows how the mind works. It was always an act to go to bed, but made a bit nicer by daddy tucking me in. How did I call it? Einmummeln? Thanks, Dad, for making feel warm and loved all those nights.

Memory V
2001
Mom was out one night, and I was waiting for her to come back sitting upright in my bunk bed. I remember this very clearly - I refused to lie down without Mom being there. So I sat up, with my yellow "Felix" rabbit blanket in my lap, and counted. I got until 45 and fell asleep.

Memory VI
Now
Skipping many years, sitting in the micro to my work writing into my little yellow notebook with the sun shining in my face.


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