Hello, everyone! I am back for day 13 of my 31-day blogging challenge. I actually almost wanted to give up on this challenge as I have missed out on several posts last weekend when I have gotten too busy and lazy at the same time. Good thing I hadn't and now that I'm on day 13, I'll be sharing with you my earliest memory(ies). Let's get it going!
All of my earliest memories date back when I was 3 and a half. I was at the Philippines at that time with my grandmother. The first memory, to me, would be the childhood best friend that I had. We'd always play in the afternoon and talk to one another with that large wall that separated both our houses. I totally forgot his name but all I remember is that they had a yellow-green Volkswagen car parked in their villa right next to ours. When we both knew that I had to leave for good, we often spent time with one another and I also often tip-toed while standing on a tall chair(or table) to get across that great wall. Epic! I've always wanted to see him and know what he looks like now, how old he is and many stuff, but I ain't sure if he remembers me the way I do about him. Toinks!
My second earliest memory would be the time I spent with my grandma in the Philippines. One that I often remember was the time when we went to the Cathedral and she bought me a mint green t-shirt from the vendors outside. I loved that shirt, but it sadly couldn't fit me anymore, haha!
My third earliest memory was when I spent some time with the grandmother and grandfather in my mother's side. I would always be dropped to their place and spend a night with them. Early in the morning, at around 3, we'd wake up and eat fried milk fish as my grandfather was a great cook. The next day, we went outside to witness the all-famous Masskara festival that was held in our place around October. My grandparents bought me an orange sleeveless fringe top with matching shorts. Sigh. If I could only bring back time.
My fourth and last earliest memory was when I came to Dubai! My father was the one who took me from the Philippines. To be honest, I wasn't that comfortable with my dad as I only see him once in a while. The parents I knew was my grandmother, aunt and uncle. I had no choice and no say back then, so I sat with him in the airplane (sobbing and whining) until we reached the UAE safe and sound. I then saw my mom (pregnant) and my little sister, Tina. I was shocked with the environment. It seemed dark, scary, empty, barren, what else? I would cry each and everyday and beg my parents to bring me back to the Philippines. Guess I was a stressful child even back then, huh? Anyway, years passed, Grandma came and here I am— willfully considering the UAE as my home sweet home. What would've I been if I stayed in the Philippines? Makes me think...
How about you? What are your earliest memories?
I hope you liked this post!
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