A suitcase...

Our most vivid memories and recollections come from our childhood. We can remember sounds, smells and images so vividly that can affect as even today in our adult life. Many of our memories revolve around our parents; some are sweet and others are bitter.

I feel that the most difficult communication of all is the communication between a parent and a child. The parents fail to perceive children as having independent identities and even when they become adults they frequently treat them as children. Sometimes parents perceive children as their successors so they pressure children either to be like them or to do the things that they never did. Other times they have a lot of expectations from their children as they always wanted the perfect child. Other times a child is simply a parent’s property that should do what is told. Of course there are the times that parents are sweet and our memories smell of jasmine but we tend to remember the pain.

The negative feelings tend to be remembered especially when the pain comes from our parents. I feel that no matter how far away we are or how old we are our parents will affect as one way or another. Some of us carry a large heavy suitcase that is called memories. Some of the memories there are so heavy that we can barely drag our feet. Then we remain still and dwell over the past. For others the memory suitcase is lighter and they can walk easier. They stopped and they removed some of the nasty memories that laid there asleep and now they can move on.

The only time I feel defenseless is when a parent’s behaviour hurts me even though I was always independent. I think that this happens not only because our parents affect us but also because when they hurt us they re-open this suitcase with the nasty memories. I feel that the more we have coped with these nasty memories the easier it will be to communicate with ourselves and with the world.


Ένα παιδί ονειρεύεται ότι το αγκαλιάζουν
Είναι ξαπλωμένο κάτω από ένα δέντρο
και μέσα από τα φυλλώματα διακρίνει μια ηλιαχτίδα.
Είναι η μέρα που παίζει κρυφτό με το δάσος.
Ένα παιδί ονειρεύεται ότι το εμπιστεύονται.
Είναι ανεβασμένο στο δέντρο και ατενίζει τον ορίζοντα
Νυχτώνει, τα αστέρια λάμπουν
και το σεληνόφως λούζει το δάσος με φως
Ένα παιδί ονειρεύεται ότι το αγαπούν.
Κάθεται πάνω στα κίτρινα νεκρά φύλλα
που έχουν πέσει από τον άνεμο
Δεν είναι μέρα ούτε και νύχτα
Είναι στο πουθενά
Κοιτάει ψηλά το δέντρο και βλέπει την καρδιά του να κρέμεται από ένα κλαδί
Η καρδιά ταλαντεύεται και ο άνεμος με ένα φύσημα την ρίχνει κάτω, στον σωρό με τα ξερά φύλλα
Τόσο απλά σταμάτησε η καρδιά του γιατί το ευχήθηκε
Στο δάσος ένα παιδί ακόμα ονειρεύεται…