Remembering A Memory I Do Not Remember

“Huh?” circa 2021, by Lear Ning Twodraw


I remember my Uncle Henry.  (My little girls tried to say his name.  The best they could do was “Uncle Hungry.”)  I remember being four years old.  I do not remember going anywhere with my Uncle Henry when I was four years old.  He said that he took me alone to someplace for kids.  An amusement park?  I don’t remember where he said that he took me.

He said he would never forget our brief conversation as he was driving me back home:

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked me.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Did you have fun?”
“Would you like to go back there again?”
“No?  Why not?”
“Because I bin there already.” 

How wise I was when I was four!  I had expressed the message of  William Blake’s poem,


He who binds to himself a Joy
Doth the wingèd life destroy;
But he who kisses the Joy as it flies
Lives in Eternity’s sunrise.

Uncle Henry had asked me whether I wanted to bind to myself a Joy.  I said no because I was content kissing the Joy as it flies and living in Eternity’s sunrise.

What wisdom I had when I was four!  I don’t remember what happened to it.

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About the Author

I am Minnie and Chic's son.