The Selective Memory Long, warm evenings spent messing around the village harbour. Watching the fishermen going about their business. I remember a general sensation of well-being. It never used to be cold as it always seems to be when I walk along the seacoast today. The endless days spent indoors because of the steady rain are forgotten. Only the sunshine and warmth remain as a memory.
I lived in a little seaside village which was full of holidaymakers in the summer and deserted the rest of the year. We ran free, a gang of local children of all ages. School work was never a big issue; we used to do it quickly so we could go off down to the village. We used to eat enormous slices of bread and jam before pulling on our bathing costumes and heading for the harbour to join the other kids.
Our main occupation during the summer months was jumping off the harbourwall into the sea. We used to encourage one another to jump higher and higher. The most admired feat used to be the big jump from the top of the small lighthouse which was the highest point along the sea wall. Only the bravest members of the gang used to do this one.
But our greatest admiration was for the beautiful, young people who drove speed boats around the bay. We used to sit on the wall watching these strangers who lived in far-away towns and who spent their holidays sun bathing and water skiing. We used to dream of becoming members of their exclusive club and going for trips around the bay. But they never mixed with us locals.
Sometimes we went fishing off the rocks. We used to spend hours in the rock pools which were only visible at low tide. We didn’t use to do things according to the time of day, but instead, we followed the rhythm of the sea. Our clock was the timetable at the entrance to the harbour which informed the fishermen of the daily times of high and low tides.
The memory selects only parts of childhood, the rest is pushed into dark corners. We never remember the whole truth, only bits and pieces picked up here and there.
My own memory has only kept the happy moments of a free and easy childhood, but I wonder if this is always the case? |