Malteasers
Memories never fade from our minds, they are like when you rub out a deep pencil line, how, even with time, it never disappears completely. It leaves a smudged line which is similar to the original scribble, but the detail has gone and you can only just remember the original.
The mind is a notebook and memories are scribbled down. They differ in an infinite number, in shape, colour, length depth.... All weaving together in a completely unique way, with new one being added constantly.
I have his picture, so I'll always remember his smile. Hi s voice, sadly, is one of those memories that is being buried. I remember his chair, large with the mossy leather crinkling at the front of the armrests. Cert ain objects are easy, the twin china owls perched on the mantel piece, the fish tank, it's splashing making a racket in the quiet room and the television, which he didn't need but he insisted we did.
I can't really remember what he wore... a blue jumper i think, with grey fleece joggers and huge slippers. The illness had thinned his auburn hair. His face, like his hair, had also lost its vitality. It now sagged, as if it was a little too big for his skull. The thing that had changed the least were his eyes. A deep hazel which had laughter in the centre, kindness surrounding it but now with tiredness at the edges.
I recall sitting on the sofa, my brother on my right next to the noisy fish tank. He was sitting in his chair, each hand on the armrests and we were watching the television, content to be together in the same room and not needing to speak when a advert came on. W e saw two women in an office discussing sweets and how naughty it was eating them. On piped up with 'they've only got ninety calories you know.' The other looked disappointed 'oh, that's not very naughty' the second the spies a young man coming up the corridor, so with her back to the camera, she lifts up her top. The man responds by staggering and toppling over a table, scattering papers everywhere. The second woman goes back to her friend, who doesn't look surprised at all. 'Better?' 'Oh, much better.'
I remember his chuckle, which was quiet yet noticeable and I remember him muttering 'Lucky lad, wish I was him.' I remember laughing too, with my brother at my side.
There are some things I have forgotten, some things I will forget but there are some things which i hope to cherish always.
His smile, his eyes and his laugh.