Memories of Childhood
There are times when I can remember being a child. I close my eyes and a vivid vision comes to play dancing across the neurotransmitters that record the memories of life. It can be in the form of a sense, a smell or a touch. They are good visions, not sad ones. Recollections of moments of happiness. The kinds of memories that I dare not contemplate before I sleep because if I do, sleep will never find me. As Christmas rolls around once again I remember the days as if they were yesterday. My father is unquestionably one of the most talented people I have ever known. Christmas always seemed like an opportunity for him to put his talents to the test. There were nights when I would lay in bed waiting for sleep to take me on Christmas Eve and I would hear strange sounds in the house. I wasn't allowed to investigate so my mind and imagination would just capture my sensibilities. I can remember one Christmas so vividly. I must have been six, seven or maybe eight years