The Sentimental Me

Sentimental? Me? Hemm..that's something to talk about. I know of people who'd carry photos of their loved ones in their wallets or placed their children or wives photos on their desks at their respective offices.
Me? As far as I remember, I had never done any of those. I mean, almost each and everybody I know would show some way of connection or affection for their families by carrying photos in the wallet and I guess that's the least I should do.

But I was never a sentimental person. I loved my family more than my life and that's it. I showed affection to them physically and verbally and I think we are good.
But there were times when I can't shake off that feeling that I should be more sentimental over some old nostalgic stuffs that I left around  the house  unattended.

The other day I was going through some old photos and I found one when I was one year old. My eyes flooded because that's the only thing that can link me to my baby days. Other than that I have nothing. And what makes the photo even more valuable was that, my dad's handwriting was on the back of the photo.

This is me fifty years ago

My poor four children. I never kept any of their baby clothes,or videos of their first steps or their favourite stuffed toys. Once I do the spring cleaning, every single old item that I thought of no significance were thrown away. Sara was once attached to her baby blue Doraemon ragged doll. She slept with it, fed the little doll and drank her milk with that doll in her arm. She wouldn't and couldn't go to sleep without it. She had it for a couple of years, I think (most probably when she was 2 ~ 4 years old) The doll had gotten rotten in her arms, stink and dirty and it was sheer ugly. I tried many ways weaning her from that unsightly thing without success. One day, when I simply can't stand the sight of that doll anymore, I took the doll and tore a little at it's mouth and left it on the floor.
The moment she woke up, she went to look for her doll and found it lying on the floor with the mouth torn. She cried in that sorrowful voice that it broke my heart terribly. But I had to do it. It's unhygienic. I cuddled her and made up a story that since the doll never brushed her teeth and hands, the worms had eaten them. Look at her mouth and fingers, I said to her, it's gone. It took her weeks to get used not having her favourite doll around even though I had replaced it with a new one.

Sophie too had something, a fluffy little pillow. A dark blue velvety pillow. She would rub the little pillow before she finally fell asleep. If one were to take one look at it, one would say, it's high time for the pillow to be kept away.
I threw it away without second thought. I should have washed and wrapped it nicely as something memorable for her. She too had cried her heart out when she couldn't find it anywhere. It was one of the worse feelings I've had in years but someone had to be the bad guy in order to wean them from their unsightly stuffed pillow and doll.

At home, I never kept any old stuff such as old sewing machine or my old maternity dress or the girls dainty shoes when they were little. I find it messy and kind of creepy looking at old things lying around the house. I don't even like antics. Save me lots of money to buy those creaky old furnitures!

But lately I am having kind of melancholic feelings towards old things and old time. I had a little regret for not saving some of the old photos, the little school uniform when they first started their elementary school, the first red bicycle we bought for my first son, Ariff for him to cycle to school. The first car we purchased after seven years of marriage(I can't even remember the plate number).

I promised myself, this time around if any of my children were to be married, I want them to be a little more sentimental than I do. No harm done in doing so.

I am penning off for now. The time shows it's 22:40hrs now. My pillow is calling.
Good night everybody. Have a good sleep and sleep well.

Rose
5th.February '14