Memory

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Isn't memory a weird thing? That's my teddy Charles the 2nd in that photo. I can remember when he lost his eye in a terrible swing accident. In my minds eye I can see him on the swing in the Alexandra Camping ground that we were visiting. I can see him flying and hitting the ground I remember turning him over to find he was down an eye and I can remember looking for it in the gravel.
I also remember on that same holiday sleeping on the front passenger seat of my Dad's Triumph TC. My child hood friend Dylan was in the drivers seat and we saw for the first time in our lives the Southern Lights. We watched for hours as the flashes lit up the sky in front of us. And I remember that they happened between 83 and 86 counts apart.
I also remember vividly seeing the picture of the teddy's predecessor (Charles the 1st) on the notice board at the old Dunedin Public Adults library in Moray Place. The noticeboard was in a long thin room which ran along side the footpath and you could see through the windows that ran along the brick wall. Charles had been photocopied and tears were drawn on his face. The information on how to reclaim him was written above and below his picture. I was able to reclaim him because I knew that he had a ted sized tissue and a lavender flower in his tiny teddy overalls pocket.

But do you think I can remember what Will and I did on the Tuesday of the first week of the holidays? No of course not.