We talked about a bunch of matters regarding myself and my pursuit of knowledge about my father. And she was a bit surprised I still remember a few things back when I was really young. Perhaps around 3 years old, or more. And honestly, I do. I don't remember everything in such a crystal clear manner. But I still remember quite a bit. If they're not tidbits and parts of early childhood memories, they're images and certain moments at least. Ms. Chan just gave me an idea for a few more entries I could post in this blog. She won't know it but I'm thankful.
For now, I'll try and sort of compile some of the easy ones I could recall without thinking too hard. After all, I intend to write about them again in better detail some other time. These memories may not be very significant to me, but perhaps someday it could be very useful and hopefully spark some interest. If not, then my goal remains the same.
(It seems I've had the fascination for the rain since I was really young.)
I remember a heavy rain. So heavy that it almost flooded the inside of the house where we used to live. Somewhere in Manila. I stood by the door, as a small child. It seems my fascination for the rain have started at an earlier age than I remember. I wasn't in school yet. And in all honesty, I don't even remember if I was with anyone that dim day. I stood by the doorway, watching the rain hit the ground in the small yard. There were plants and there were walls. In front of me was a toy... penguin, if I remember correctly. Or was it a duck? I think it was a penguin. Yeah... it was black and white. And it would make a squeaky noise when you squeezed it. I liked that toy. Not really sure who gave it to me or how I got it and lost it. But I remember that. It sat there on the ground, soaked in water. I picked it up, I think. But it didn't make the noise anymore after I have squeezed it. The feelings I had at the time are all unclear to me now. I just remember realizing the water have made it malfunction and would no longer create the sound I expect it to produce until it's completely dry again. And that's all I remember from that moment. But not the only thing I remember from that place.
(She removed the corn from the cob. All I had to do was pick them from the plate.)
I also remember one time, at the very same residence, my mom and I were home. I suppose she wasn't working that day. And we get to spend time with each other. The memory is quite dim and blurry now. But never will I forget that time when she would sing to me nursery songs. Something about indians... it goes like, '1 little 2, little 3, little indians... 4 little 5 little 6, little indians.' And specially, that song about having two hands. The left and the right. Hold them up high, so clean and bright. Clap them softly, 1, 2, 3... I remember.
Also, this one I remember quite well. Still the same place. Still the same dim memory, but I remember it. We were there together, and we had boiled corn. Up to this day, I still do love corn quite a ton. I could eat like a truckload of it if I wanted too. Hehe... But I remember, the corn we had was too hot for me. And what my mom did was took them and removed the corn from the cob. So all I had to do was pick them from the plate and enjoy them like that. I suppose there was a time when my mother was an actual parent to me. I doubt she still remembers that. But I do. And I want to document that before I forget it. Among many other memories and things about myself. For when the time comes that I am no longer around or if I forget, I will have these written accounts to refer to.
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