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Do you remember what your parents were doing?

I do have a lot of memories of what my parents did. Fortunately they're mostly good ones. My older brother on the other hand, was something of a mixed bag. Makes me wonder sometimes why I love him so much and treasure every now-rare moment we're together. And the way my mom talks you'd think he was a painfully shy but sweet little angel:innocent: when we were kids, and is pretty shocked by some of the things I've told her.:smilingimp:
 
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Many of my earliest memories are sounds and smells. Recall my father going down to the basement at dawn to shovel coal into the coal furnace, I've never forgotten the sound of the shovel as it hit the pile of coal with a crunch. Or his boots crunching on the cinder path beside the house in the winter, while walking down to the factory. The sound of the steam whistle that called all the workers and then sounded for them to leave at the end of the day.

The gentle sound of my mother washing the kitchen floor, and the smell of pine from the cleaner. The smell of soap from the dishes being washed. The scent of clean laundered cotton clothing, while she ironed. The scent of a bushel basket of apples that was near the kitchen door, so that when you came in the scent of the apples was everywhere.
 
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I remember every word, move, nuance my mother made. Because of abuse, I had to keep an eye on her moods and do everything possible to make her happy.
However, there were times I was in my own world, I would hide under the bed and pretend to be dead.
Oh yes! And these memories of my mother always catch up with me.
Traumatic memory is special!
 
Many of my earliest memories are sounds and smells. Recall my father going down to the basement at dawn to shovel coal into the coal furnace, I've never forgotten the sound of the shovel as it hit the pile of coal with a clatter. Or his boots crunching on the cinder path beside the house in the winter, while walking down to the factory. The sound of the steam whistle that called all the workers and then sounded for them to leave at the end of the day.

The gentle sound of my mother washing the kitchen floor, and the smell of pine from the cleaner. The smell of soap from the dishes being washed. The scent of clean laundered cotton clothing, while she ironed. The scent of a bushel basket of apples that was near the kitchen door, so that when you came in the smell of apples was everywhere.
I love hearing these memories.
Gives me a feeling of warm nostalgia,
even if they're another's.
These are wonderful, thank you, Mia.
:relieved::blush::)
 
I can't always remember those things well.

I had to be very alert at all times with my parents and what they were doing
 
That mature adults understand that they revolve around the world.
I acknowledge that when there are other people involved.
However that children see the world revolving around them.
That is how I get when I am hyper-focused on a special interest.
full
 
I remember short, vague clips. Like short video clips of specific actions, events, scenarios.

It doesn’t mean I knew what they were doing, it just means I was observing and remember details without understanding or any emotion. (Usually)
 
So, in terms of what my parents were doing, my dad would be at work or in his workshop or DIY or watching television or out at a play or arts cinema or for a long walk. My mum would be at work or out playing tennis or badminton or at a creative class or watching television or preparing meals or doing washing/ washing up.

If they were in the same room they'd usually be arguing. Unless it was a really good telly programme. If they were in the car they'd usually be arguing. They weren't happy together and divorced when I was at university. I wish they could have understood better that children are affected by constant arguing and tense atmosphere, but they remained unaware of that unfortunately and unable to resolve their difficulties throughout my childhood.
 

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