Pardon the grammatical errors, depressed tone, disjointed, choppy & overly romantic entry etc
I have been having recurring dreams about my early childhood in Bukit Payong, KT. Age 3 to 10.
Rolling in the middle of the golden paddy field (musim tuai, so it is dry..folks) … watching the blue sky, lying on our back.
Looking for rubber tree’s seeds/nuts… getting leeches on my slippers, running away... leaving them behind… my kind friend had to go retrieve it back.( he has passed away)
Last night, I and hubby drove back to KL, just the 2 of us… a very rare occasion, now that we have 2 kids. I asked him to tell me the story how we met and fell in love, while I drove. He was very surprised, nonetheless he was kind enough to amuse our winding journey in Karak with the magical tale. Nine years seems to flash by very fast…. (though we argued on couple of details). Lastly, he asked why do I keep talking about the past, why not embrace the future instead?
2010 marks my departure from the 20’s age group. I am still 29 today… in my head I’m already worried about being 92…. (if I get to live that old) … he says I’m having a mid life crisis. This is why I don’t really adore my own birthday .
BUT… Will I be able to remember all these memories, beautiful moments as good as fairytale as time passes by? I was afraid of not being able to hold these times in my memory bank. Some of the minor details.. I am beginning to forget already.. It feels like my memories is, like cupping fine white Damai beach sands in my hands… one day, there’s none left… maybe one pebble or two.
I really have a handful of Damai beach sands in a small heart shaped porcelain container. I took it before we were married, about 6 years ago, a momento… where I realise my heart was stolen.
I’ve tried writing in down in my diary.. blog(which I have abandon ages ago)… bits and pieces of it. Scribbles of his name here and there….
One of these days, I should sit down and write it as a short story. Novel maybe. Whilst some of the characters are still around…
So, one day.. when I forget, senile or God forbids, that magical force that binds us together has weaken with age…. I could read them again & again… Or one of the kids could read it to me (if my eyes have surrendered itself to cataract or whatsoever)