By getting inspired from book of John Didion which is called, “I Remember” we wrote our own memoir.
I Remember
I remember the first time I fell in love with orange. I was six and wearing prep fit orange shorts.
I remember my first time in my brother’s car. I was with our mom and terrified.
I remember our old house. It was warm and small.
I remember that I used to hide my dad’s cigarettes in order to make him stop smoking. After all, I started smoking.
I remember my first pack of Marlboro Gold’s.
I remember my first pet. It was small and green, and he knew how to swim.
I remember I wanted to be a basketball player.
I remember sleepless nights.
I remember my first time flying alone. I was going to Canada for 20 days.
I remember arguing with dad, telling him to “stop, we both have the same genes.”
I remember ordering french fries with my brother.
I remember the first time I cried for a girl.
I remember long naps after school.
I remember walking down the street and seeing the barber shop that I went to since I was 7 and making a headshake with my barber “Mesut”.
I remember going out to drink with friends at night.
I remember my dad asking me “Why are you so late?”
I remember my mom getting mad at me when I put my phone on silent.
I remember sweaty soccer trainings.
I remember waking up at 5am to study more before my exams during finals.
I remember bacon and cheese pressed between two pieces of Italian bread.
I remember jam sessions with my roommate.
I remember my orange bracelet, a gift from my ex-girlfriend.
I remember my first love. I was young and innocent.
I remember once when I was at Starbucks, the barista asked me whether I wanted chocolate or caramel on my drink. I just replied, “Yes” (nice to be an ESL student)
I remember the smell of the laundry room.
I remember walking down to East River Park at 6am, under the morning sun.
I remember the shiny red icing over my cupcake.
I remember kisses.
I remember hugs.
I remember losing.
I remember winning.
I remember throwing up after field and track trainings.
I remember that blonde freshman girl with bright green eyes. She was young and beautiful.
I remember my first kiss. My eyes were shut and my lips were sealed.
I remember going to the same yellowish painted café every single time with my mom when we went out for shopping. She was in love with that place.
I remember short and fast summer days.
I remember falling in love with strangers.
I remember walking all the way down on 6th avenue expecting to reach the Hudson River.
I remember my dad turning down the radio when we were passing by a graveyard. All he wanted to teach me was ‘Respect’.
I remember the things that I want to remember.
I would like to remember my kindergarten friends.
I would like to remember how much my brother loved me when I was a kid.
I would like to remember how I felt when I held my mom’s hand for the very first time.
I would like to see what my parents used to look like when they were my age.
I would like to know how my parents felt when I just popped into their wonderful worlds.
I would like to hear their voices again for the first time.
…
Even If good memories exist,
I remember,
The unattainable urge to always want what we can’t have.