Sweet Memories

All the negative events which have manifested in my life since I migrated to America had somehow blocked many of my sweetest, happiest childhood memories. Although there are many haters who would like people to believe I am just a misanthrope who was never loved and cared for, they are so wrong.

Perhaps it was because my biological parents loved and adored me so much was the reason why the jealous haters sought to rip them apart and make my life a living and breathing nightmare.

Yet despite all their evil attempts, God has been good because on the days when the world has been completely unreasonable and unkind I remember the over the top gestures my biological father made.

When I was barely one years old my father built me a life size doll house which was the equivalent to some people’s pool house. It was a place I could retreat to with my dollies, collect lizard eggs and have tea time.

Since we lived by the ocean the property was enriched with almond trees. There was an almond tree which hovered over my doll house and they were several in the backyard closer to the ocean.

In those days it was so cool to be a kid because I could play all day and feast on the fruits of the property without retreating inside the house for a lunch break. I would collect the almonds in my sand pail pretending I had gotten a good deal at the market. Then, I would proceed to cut the fleshy yellow skin just so I could gaze at the red interior because they reminded me of paradise plum candy when peeled.

The almonds were divine and out of this world. They certainly do not compare to the ones they sell raw in the stores today. Even with all my allergies I must admit I never had a single reaction from any of the almonds I ate from the property.

No one would expect to find such natural bounties in Kingston. But to me, it was as if I had my own fantastical world with my life-sized dollies, my playhouse, and fruit trees which could rival the plum fairy’s world.

There were coolie plum trees, red coat plum trees and then there were the almonds. When my father came home he would make me beautiful pink crowns for my hair with the Mexican Katies in the yard and a jaimala for my neck, or as some people call it, a lei.

I was so content in my magical world that oftentimes my nanny would have to take me kicking and screaming from my doll house to retire for the evening.

To some people these memories may not seem to be a big deal but to me they were EVERYTHING!

Even to this day I am able to muster a big smile when I come in contact with the aroma of almonds or the sea.

Jaimala: Indian neck garland