childhood memories

In late summer when I was eight, one day, my father and I made a daytrip to a mountain not too far from our town. Prior to our departure, there was a minor quarrel between my parents. The place my father had picked was a trail along a river in a cave, and my mother […]

In this memory, I’m five. My two-year-old brother learns how to read, and now, he has a few favourite picture books he likes to read out loud. Whenever he is not playing with his toy buses, he goes to the backroom of our apartment and pulls out a book from the shelf. “Nontan, let me

I’m three in this memory. In August, my new-born brother comes out of ICU after his heart surgery, and because my parents need to focus on his care, I’m sent to my maternal grandmother to spend three weeks with her family. At her house, everybody wants to know about my brother’s condition. They ask my

When I was little, there was a cheap diner that my family would occasionally go to for dinner. Though it couldn’t have been far away from our home, the drive in darkness made it feel very far away. As we sat down at a table by a window, I spotted towers in the distant hill

In this memory, I’m about nine years old. Every Thursday is the garbage collection day for my neighbourhood. My mother collects all the garbage in the house and if I’m downstairs, I take the bags to the nearest collection spot. Every few blocks share a designated collection spot, and you’re not supposed to dispose your

The year when I entered primary school, the Pokémon anime series came on the national television network. Everybody around me, both boys and girls, became crazy about the series. Except me. At my home, I was only allowed to watch one anime per week – a rule my mother had made to prevent me from

The summer when I was seven, my mother and I visited my great aunt’s house in Tokyo for a few days. The evening we arrived, my mother and great aunt chatted until late, and when I woke up the next morning, they were already up, preparing breakfast in the small kitchen downstairs. “We’re going to

In this memory, I’m nine years old. Every morning, I walk to the school on my own, passing by groups of first graders, some kids from other grades, and some familiar faces from my own grade. There is a cow bell attached to my school bag. It was a souvenir from my kindergarten classmate when

When I was in primary school, I would often use a tissue paper to blow my nose, then tuck it in my pocket thinking I might use it again later. The chances were, however, I almost never did and forgot about the tissue paper altogether. One weekend morning, I was having breakfast when I heard

In this memory, I’m five years old. On Christmas morning, my brother and I wake up early. In the living room, I can hear my mother working on some tasks. It’s all quiet. We both jump out of blankets and walk through the open sliding door between the two rooms. My mother is here sitting.