Outwardly we all appear similar, underneath we are all bubbling with idiosyncrasies and memories unique to our very own short stints on this Earth. Scratch away at the top layers and, if a person is willing, you can discover what’s underneath. Sometimes it’s better not to know.
But for each and every one of us there lies some magical long hidden memories that might only be triggered into consciousness because we hear a song, or smell a certain scent, see a particular object… and right there in the midst of everything we can vividly remember moments of joy. And despair. (But I’d rather focus on the positive.) What was once a rippled, faded and distorted image comes sharply into focus as you travel back in time, even if just for a few seconds. Recalling events that have moulded us and made us into who we are, that can carry us forward, give us inspiration, hope, comfort.
I’m listening to some music and suddenly I’m 14 and at Wembley Stadium, the artist is about to come on stage, there’s a surge in the crowd as everyone clamours to get closer to the front… I start to go forwards with everyone else until I feel a hand on my neckline hoiking me back- my big brother! Looking after me, making sure we don’t get separated, then viewing together what is still the best concert I’ve ever seen, with the best brother anyone could ask for.
Memories of experiences like that bring a smile to my face and remind me of who I once was and that the excitable little girl still lives on inside of me, somewhere, under the surface.