I Remember


I remember the tent in the hallway, pretending that we were on holiday.

I remember the Christmas Days, sitting around the table. I remember the food, the laughter, the chatter. I remember feeling part of a unit, a team, a family.

I remember his jokes. He would always sing songs and ask me if I was ‘courting’ yet, despite the fact that I was only ten years old. I remember how much my sisters and I loved him.

I remember ‘I Won’t Send Roses’ and ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone.’

I remember the last day, where I was the only one that wasn’t crying. I remember running down the road, signed T-shirt in hand, elated that I would never have to see them ever again.

I remember the long hours, the Ajax and the boredom. I remember the embarrassment of the face paint, and footballers on Sundays. I remember the smell that would permeate my clothes and linger for hours after a shift.

I remember waiting for him to call.

I remember the smell of his aftershave on his sweater that I wore.

I remember the Miller Man, the bikini, the music and the British Chippendales. I remember the lock ins, the cigarettes and the burnt holes in the carpets. I remember the Aqua bar.

I remember the B&B and the jealousy. I remember the black dress that was totally unsuitable for the occasion.

I remember Barber, Greig, Saint-Saens and Beethoven.

I remember the letter that offered me the chance of a new life. I remember that my whole life easily fit into eight boxes.

I remember the cocktails, the dancing and the hangover.

I remember sitting in the long grass in the sun and watching them run up and down the hill, shrieking as they lost their shoes.

I remember the Empire State Building, the piano and the bag. I remember the sand, the Ferris wheel and the graffiti. I remember the sore feet, the chess and the sunburn.

I remember the feeling of being utterly alone and helpless as I walked into that room almost every day.

I remember the kiss.

I remember staring at her in the cage, and knowing that she was the one. I remember the mornings she would wake me up at 4.00am, wanting to be fed. I remember the cuddles, the TV, the snoring. I remember her face at the window every evening.

I remember the tower, the sunset, the lock on the bridge and the river. I remember the gypsies, the tambourines and the latch. I remember the graves, the maps and the language.

I remember the first young faces, staring at me with the assumption that I knew what I was doing. I remember pretending that I did, hiding my terror behind a smile and a song.

I remember lying on the beach, watching the world go by. For those short hours, responsibility didn’t exist. Fear didn’t exist. Life didn’t exist.

I remember the box on my doorstep.

I remember the answer machine messages of my song.

I remember the microphone, the mad Irish girl, the promise, the snuff and Sinead O’Connor.

I remember the superheroes, the spaghetti and the phone call. I remember the awkward waitress and the free cranberry juice.

I remember the amphitheatre, the pool and Whigfield. I remember the waterpark, and the screams that she made as she was going down the waterslide.

I remember watching as he unwrapped the paper, after I waited for nearly two months for him to do so. I remember the expression on his face.

I remember the cheque, the train journey, Varsity and her tears as she realised I was standing outside her building. I remember the text and the meal.

I remember The Villa, Skunk Anansie and the concerto.

I remember the American girl. I remember his face when I surprised him. I remember the Gap sweater, the box of twinkles and the concert. I remember the flutes, the car journey and the programme.

I remember the Eye, the sunset, the teddy bear and the city during a wonderful weekend.

I remember saying goodbye.

I remember the screaming the lyrics until my voice was sore and spilling my beer down his back in the Golden Circle.

I remember the bracelet and the cards.

I remember finally knowing. For the first time, all was clear.

I remember opening the door…


What about you? What memories do you have?

You can also find me on Twitter and Tumblr @suzie81blog


Written in response to the Weekly Writing Challenge

31 thoughts on “I Remember

  1. I remember the sunrise on the ocean, the Redwoods, treehouses, patchouli on hippies, being buried in the hot sand, running naked in the waves, body surfing , abalone BBQ , when the waves were out touching the starfish, mussels, crabs,anemones, getting wet when the waves came back in unexpectantly up to my thighs, the taste of the salty water and the fresh clams, shivering and sandy sandwiches, walking on the squeaky sand ,whipping the long seaweed, hearing the gulls squak and fight for a piece of sandy sandwich. The sunset on the pacific ocean.

  2. I remember my wife’s smell. Her face which I haven’t touched for a long time. But soon not anymore.

    I remember my kids riding on my back before bed time. But soon not anymore as they were grown heavy after 2 years.

    I remember the old places where I grew up. But not anymore as I will be impatient with traffic soon.

    I like your post.

  3. I love this post–so much detail and yet so much left to the imagination. It feels like you caught the little bits just right to communicate a set of feelings.

  4. I can’t t think of any of my own off-hand for being in awe at yours. They sound like the kind we’d want to share over a drink and loads of laughs. And then other memories would arise and soon we’d be talking through each other scrambling to speak them in case we should forget. These are great, Suzie. Every one of them a part of who you are and definitely begging questions! šŸ™‚

    • Thanks my lovely! Every one of them is a memory but is didn’t want to explain every story – just a snapshot. To explain them all we would need an entire week!

  5. Great post! I remember walking up Union Street at 6 in the morning with sand up to my knees and a salty taste in my mouth after being to a nightclub and ending up in the sea and having to borrow my flatmates shoes to go to work 3 hours later and walking like a clown because my shoes were soaked and full of sand!

  6. Such an outstanding and memorable life you have lived. It is an example of the beginning of a memoir, Suzie! I think that you have had so many wonderful experiences, some also sad and miserable ones, too. It is a well-rounded life, so far, but many more memories to make…
    I remember my first class of six graders, they were much more polite than I imagined them to be. I also remember my Dad taking me out upon Lake Erie, where it looked like miles between our small little boat and the shore. Leaning back to gaze at the stars and his calm nature matching the scenery. I remember my Mom and I going clothes shopping, while I was a teenager. I loved that we laughed and chose my brothers clothes for them. Also, stopping for a burger and fries on the way home. I have lots of friend memories, but dressing up, playing house and being close to someone in their bed at night for overnights, whispering stories and thoughts those were such great times. My exes are all in my ‘good’ memory list, so will keep them close at hand… thanks for listening, Suzie!

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  9. Great post, Suzie. It made me remember all sorts of things myself. When I meet up with my three sisters (only once a year, unfortunately) we have such a laugh reliving old memories and making new ones. Thanks for sharing yours.

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