Day 31, May 31st, Friday: A vivid memory
First off, I’m giving myself my biggest awkward hug for making it to the last day of this challenge. You too? Oopss. Come here. I’m giving away free hugs!! Anyway, this is pretty weird. This is the last day and I had a hard time choosing on what to write. I’ve got tons of memories I want to share and since it’s not memories that’s written there, I’m giving only one of my earliest memories of my mom and I back when I was six years old during my supposedly first day of school.
Twelve years ago, my mom enrolled me to the nearest kindergarten within our barangay (more like village, but not really). At home I was the most excited kid in the universe. I remember not being able to sleep the night before. My mom talked to me way too seriously about how I should behave nicely in school and that I should try to get along well with the other kids. Then the most-awaited day came. We prepped up for my first day, thinking that everything would be okay. We finally went to the place and saw a considerable number of kids already there. The teacher called them for assembly as my mom went in front and tell her that I’m joining the class. They exchanged words, nods and smiles thinking that I can spend the afternoon all by myself without any hassle. When my mom was about to make her exit, it’s like I was poured a glass of icy cold water. I realized I couldn’t let her leave. Why? I DIDN’T KNOW. Until now, I don’t know. What I did was I held the hem of her duster and didn’t let go until she told me we’re going home. I CRIED THE ENTIRE NIAGARA FALLS. It involved sobbing, sobbing and sobbing.
That’s how my first day went. They tried sending me again the next day, but nothing changed. They just decided that I better enrolled directly to first grade by next year.
I am remembering it now. ― Liz Rosenberg, The Laws of Gravity