The breath of your heart

Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
William Wordsworth
I went to bed much earlier than usual last night so at 5:30 this morning I was up at the computer and ready to write. I woke up with many memories of childhood, it wasn’t a dream just flashes of memory from when I was much younger. They were very sweet memories…my mom sitting at the end of the bed and telling my sister and I she was going to the hospital the next day and was going to bring home a baby; we had no idea she was pregnant or most likely didn’t even know what pregnant was. I was excited because she said I could name the baby if it was a girl. My brother and I watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang as my mother darned socks and we waited for my father to come home in a snow storm; I kept leaving the TV to watch out the tiny window in the hallway as it got darker and the snow kept gently falling.  Sitting in my Nana’s bed next to her as we did a word search puzzle together, she kept telling me how smart I was and I felt loved; the room was warm and I could hear and smell my mom cooking dinner. My Nana is in the hospital and my mom and I are making vanilla custard to take to her, we place six Pyrex cups of custard in a water bath and my mom gives me the nutmeg grater so I can grate fresh nutmeg on each one (this is the first recipe I ever remember cooking.) 
I’ve always been intrigued by dreams and childhood memory. Years ago my brother was in a car accident and was in the head injury unit at the hospital. As he struggled to get well and heal from his injuries, he would often tell me and my family random things from when he was very young. I’m sure today he wouldn’t remember but as his brain was healing snippets of memory came to the surface.
Today, do some free writing on your earliest childhood memory…could there be a poem or a story in your recollections. Try to remember everything about this memory, the sounds, smells and words that were spoken. Now get back to work!
The Writing Nag

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3 Replies to “The breath of your heart”

  1. I know what you mean about childhood memories. They are fascinating, not so much the stories of childhood that you tell a million time over, but rather those fleeting images and impressions that have that strange warm glow to them.

  2. What a great prompt! Too many times I find myself trying to move on and away from childhood, but there was a young boy there once with his own unique view on life.

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