Elvis Presley once sang a song called Memories. Whenever I hear it, I quickly return to when I was a child growing up in Little Italy where I’d be sitting with my nose to the window watching the snow accumulate on the path leading to our home.
I also remember being no older than five years old, sitting on the floor playing with my toys while my mother cooked the Sunday family meal. I can still smell the delicious aroma of her Italian gravy (sauce).
I remember being ten and coming home from school for lunch. I spent my time in the kitchen wolfing down what she had taken all morning to prepare, so that I could watch The Flintstones before going back to school.
I remember spending summer nights running around my cousins’ street, chasing them in a game of Hide-and-Seek. My father and uncles would be playing cards in the kitchen while my mother and aunts would be cleaning up. I can’t forget having all the freedom in the world, with no responsibilities or worries.
I remember driving back home from a long trip in the country. My parents were chatting in the front seat of the car while I watched the stars twinkling through the rear window. It was then that my love for astronomy developed.
I remember the first time I felt absolute fear. I was eight and I was exploring my aunt’s garden in Italy. The next thing I remember was staring at a huge web spun across my path with the largest spider I’ve ever seen sitting in the center. It was also the first time I felt a lump in my throat.
I remember riding in the backseat of my uncle’s car. He smoked and the smell of the cheap polyester that covered everything had churned my stomach to the point where I threw my head out the passenger window and decorated the side of his vehicle with my partially digested lunch. I’ll never forget how patient and kind he was toward me, despite what I had done.
I remember the smell of fresh cut grass in the mornings when my dad would do the lawn.
I remember the smell of burning wood while I waited for my aunt to make popcorn the old fashion way. The memory of the sunset hitting the Italian Alps still hasn’t left me, even after all these years.
I remember spending time with my parents Sunday afternoons watching Godzilla movies on a small twenty-four-inch black and white TV.
I remember sitting in the living room watching my Saturday morning cartoons and remembering how my mom would bring me a bowl of carrots to keep me filled until lunch.
I remember the rain, the smell of it and the sound while I sat watching from my veranda.
I miss my childhood. I love the memories.
What do you remember from your childhood?
Looking to God 
My mom always played the Blue Christmas album.
The comments section isn’t big enough, but as we’re approaching Christmas, I have a strong memory of Christmas shopping and buying Top Trumps and a construction kit of a 747 carrying the Space Shuttle. Being promised Subbuteo for Christmas and using Lego bricks as footballers as a way of ‘pretending’ I already had Subbuteo in the run up to Christmas day. I need to right a post about memories.
By the way, how did your family come to leave Italy and settle in Canada?
I lived in Canada all my life except for when I was eight. My dad moved us to Italy for a couple of years due to a job opportunity.
I have lots of good memories but one of my favorites is sitting in the kitchen with my dad, eating vanilla wafers with cream cheese. (It’s delicious.) My mom would come into my room at night to tell me good-night and we would end up talking about life. I was blessed to have them.
Thanks for sharing your time with your parents, Diana. What a wonderful memory!
I have mostly good memories of my child – & teenhood, especially around Thanksgiving & Christmas.& Halloween.
I have humourous memories of squabbling with my cousin re. : ” diving for pocket change ” in the sofa cushions after my grand – dad had been around. 🙂
Most of my childhood was spent growing up on a farm. We had cows and a few horses, but mostly we grew cereal grains.
My fondest memories growing up on the farm: helping grandma bake fresh bread (nothing then or now has ever smelled so good), slipping out of the house while Dad and Grandpa were harvesting and bringing in the grain … I would do my best Ninja and creep up in the dark and watch them from the grass as they unloaded the crop into the grain bins. I also fondly remember getting to take my comforter and sleeping outside on the trampoline, looking up at the stars and falling asleep to the sounds of crickets singing a lullaby.
Thanks Jack for taking me back, to great memories. I can still smell the bread.
Going back to great memories is what it’s all about!
We all have that “something” that triggers emotions and feelings capable of taking us back to our past. A song, a smell, a landscape, an object… you name it. Thanks for sharing it though, looks like you had a lovely childhood. Cheers!
Thanks, Javier. Trinkets around my desk are constant reminders of my family and the places we’ve gone.
on sat. morning having bagels and lox while watching Charlie Chan, the Asian sleuth.
What a beautiful post!
OMG when I was a little girl I use to pretend I was Elvis leading lady. I just loved me some Elvis, so much I rather sit in front of the TV on Saturdays instead of playing outside with my friends.
Such a lovely post about your childhood memories, and this happens to be my word of the day on Bluebird4u. Great minds think alike… have a wonderful weekend and take care. ~ Bluebird
Only remember bits and pieces, but I can’t usually recall them when I want. If I can then it feels like it’s difficult to put into words. More emotions and still photos than anything else. It’s weird, but my memory isn’t very good on those things and I need a trigger. Big stories I can do, but not simple things like many of my friends.
I remember laying in bed with dark surrounding me. The window open smelling the fresh air from a rain. Hearing the tap-tap-tap of rain hitting the window. Awesome memories my friend. XOXO – Bacon
Memories are like lifeboats in time connecting us to our past.