F: Starfish bite.
P: Do they?
F: Yes, my grandpa was in the water and one came up and was biting him.
P: Is this your Grandpa from before I was born?
F: Yes, before everyone was born. My grandpa was a doctor and he died. No, he didn’t die but his house was old and he went to live somewhere else and he take me to find my parents and you were the best choice. When he left England I was very sad to see him go. I’m never going to see him again. He’s going to live in Africa.
P: Did your grandpa have a wife?
F: Did he? Let me think about it. Let me think about it. No!
P: Did he have any other children
F: Oh yes. Lane. Jasus, Bosus, Dacy, Clacy, Jaelene and Janie. Those were all the names of his kids. And there was one named Jack. I don’t like Jack. Because he always sits on my grandpa’s best chair. He’s always doomed. He has orange hair. And he has dots like a dozo.
P: Are you going back to live with your Grandpa one day?
F: No. He’s never coming back.
P: Do you miss your Grandpa?
F: Yes. A lot
it's amazing when they tell you things like this.
ReplyDeletePart of you thinks, how amazing, it must be real.
Another part thinks, how amazing is the imagination of a child.
I distinctly remember telling my mum I could see auras, describing varying colours around trees and people. I made up incredible stories about psychic stuff. I would try so hard to imagine these things because I knew it would impress her and she would tell her friends. I also made up fanciful nightmares because I could then hop into bed with her for a cuddle.
Fred sounds like she is growing up to be an extraordinary person :)
I remember telling people I was a winkle from another planet when I was a kid. I think I almost believed it myself. Then again, some people wouldn't be surprised now if it turned out to be true!
ReplyDeleteThink about all the kids who have imaginary friends, and seem to honestly believe they're real. Perhaps making stuff up is a way of working out what can be real and what can't. But where does the material come from?
I used to say I was from Mars. I love this spookiness about kids, the vivid reality of their imaginations. Fred has an imaginary friend too, Bedda, and he has been such a big part of the family. He only appears now when he is most needed. Often it's to sleep in her bed. But from the age of three Fred has been so clear on who he is and what he looks like and how to play with him. No detail has ever changed.
ReplyDeleteThough Fred's imaginary life is more real to her than, say, Buckingham Palace or Africa, and really my only experience of Africa is imaginary (though perhaps we could say that even about places we have been). I guess all language, all history, is really a leap of the imagination.
Frrrreakin hell man!
ReplyDeleteShe does my head in!
Wow ... that's amazing. I think you have another writer on your hands. Yay!
ReplyDeleteI have a "memory" of riding on an old-fashioned train with my grandfather. I remember asking my parents if that was true, and they told me it never happened. But I've remembered it now for my whole life and have wondered if it could have been from a past life. A son of a former colleague used to tell her stories from when he was a "big tall man."
ReplyDeleteYou loved the night sky when you were little. Your early stories of Mars were spooky though I don't remember them well and never thought to write them down. You did have another family there and you knew your family was active when Mt Wellington was covered with cloud. As you grew older you moved into an imaginative story-telling phase. Also a bit of parent pressure, i.e. you had pets on Mars and never had to eat silverbeet or pumpkin or whatever.
ReplyDeleteIt's great that you're keeping a record of Fred's memories of her other world. She will lose them as she gets older. I think I had some memories too but they've been lost to me since I was small. Perhaps they'll return when I'm really old.
At 14 I first read Wordswoth's poem - Ode Intimations of Immortality Recollected From Early Childhood. I knew the poem was written for me and all about me. Here's a little bit of it.
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star
Hath had elsewhere it's setting
And cometh from afar
Most of the girls in the class at STM didn't like it because it had such an unwieldy title and was far too long. But I thought it was marvellous. I read it now and like it still but it doesn't engender the same emotions any more.
I've finished The Indigo Girls and really enjoyed the book but it took me a while to get used to two narrators. Once I did then it was great.
Frangipani
I love these stories of hers, they're just wonderful.
ReplyDelete