Memories of Lost Things

A note to a school friend, half finished

A pencil with a scented eraser on top

A box of chalk, puffing out dust

The honour of a group punishment, for we bred no snitches

A bottle of water, shared by many thirsty mouths

A tiffin box, emptied, far before recess

A vine of bougainvillea adorning the playground gate

Beckoning us with its cheerful pinks

As calls to come back home, fell on tiny, deaf ears

Skinned knees and bruised elbows

Toothy grins and a complete lack of egos

A toddler’s wonky waddle

A pre-schooler’s biiiiig sentences

Playful nursery rhymes

Story and nap time, inarguably the best of times

Temporary squabbles, permanent friendships

Emotional drama preceding all field trips

Just memories yet

But memories still

A treasure trove

Locked against its will

Come childhood friend

And steal again a few moments from with me?

Can you guess that I came across a half finished message hastily scribbled in an old notebook today and I got lost. Lost in the memories of the things I’ve lost along the way. And yet gained so much that my heart could explode!

Memories of that which we have lost are curious things- weeks, months and even years may pass without any recollection of them and then, quite suddenly, something will remind us of a lost friend, or of a favourite possession that has been mislaid or destroyed, and then we will think : Yes, that is what I had and I have no longer.

Alexander McCall Smith, The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party