O
Okyots
Guest
When i was about two years old and an only child, i began to talk about my big brother and different every-day activities we used to do together, such as getting water from a pump, which was really strange for a toddler brought up in the suburbs to recall. On various occasions my mother would come into the family room and find me lying on the sofa with tears streaming down my face talking about my big brother dying and how terribly i missed him. I would tell my parents about "When I was a big girl" and things that i would do. One day while i was watching Reading Rainbow on PBS i started screaming frantically for my mother. By the time she came into the room i was very disappointed and kept saying that she missed it and that my old house was on TV and that she missed seeing it. A few minutes later my old house,as i called it, came back on the TV and my mother said that it was a Chinesse Junk boat. I kept on saying that that was my old house where my brother and i used to live. There are many other stories that i told my mother when i was younger, but some of them, she has forgotten. Now i am 15 and I don't have any recollection of my brother but i desperatly want to be able to remember him and my other life now because i feel like they were a very important part of me that is now missing.