Nostalgic me

This afternoon was a sweet reminder of spring, together with Easter. Not only is the flat cleaner than it has been in a long time. My daughter is celebrating her 21st birthday with her friends, so she put an extra effort in cleaning. With our powers joined and with some new furniture and paint (not because of her birthday) it really looks neat and it gives me a feeling of something fresh. On top of that, the sunshine was teasing me really kindly and showing off warming my back as I was sweeping the balcony. It made me feel like going for a walk, but I couldn't, of course, still being on a sick leave. Never mind, just seeing it made me happier.

When I was a little girl, I could go for a walk almost any time I wanted. It was nicer if I went together with my brother, though. My sister is five years older than me and my brother two. I had my advocate in my sister, besides we could talk sister talk with her as we grew a bit older, but my brother was good to have around when I wanted to do things: hike, play, climb trees and make a bow and arrows and actually shoot with them. I never felt I was acting like a boy, but maybe sometimes I was. I skinned my knees more than once and learned not to cry over that. No broken bones, though, none of us. My brother was like a little god to me. He taught me not to run to our parents with complaints: When I did something wrong (which might even hurt him), he told me not to tell them. So there was no joy in telling on him when he did something.

I have very few pictures from my childhood. But today I looked for them. I have some sunny ones and the nice sunshine reminded me of them. These two are of me and my sister:


My dad didn't take many pictures, but I guess he liked it when he saw us picking flowers.

I always had short hair as a child. My parents convinced me it was more convenient. Maybe it was, but it was also very (completely) unruly. And when we added glasses to that at the age of six, well...

There is another picture of us two. I can almost feel the love we had for each other. I felt so protected with the older two around!

Over the years many things have happened, many hard words were said, but it's like a house: when the foundation is solid, it gets a crack or two (or twenty), but doesn't really fall down.

My brother? I could hardly find a photo with him on it, I don't live in my home, mind you, most photos are still there and there are not many at all... Well, here's one with him and my mom, before they bought me in a dusty carton box :D


I wonder who kicked those years - they couldn't fly so fast by themselves, could they? From little kids' games to being parents ourselves and now my daughter is only two days away from being 21... I guess this is the way it's supposed to be. But still, I feel like I'll wake up one day and ask the question my grandma used to ask: When did I become so old?