It's eerie how bad childhood memories can remain vivid in our minds years after they occur. In my case they are not really bad in the nefarious, "I tore both arms off all my sister's Barbies", type of memories. Mine tend to be more of a spectatorly nature. One event I remember all too clearly.
I couldn't have been older than five years of age the first time I remember being at CAJ, the school from where I would graduate twelve years down the road. My family had driven in for some event, and I decided to spend some time by myself, wandering the playground. It was a very large playground at the time, for I was small. There were two slides; one for people younger than I, and the other bigger one for the bigger kids. Both slides were painted blue with gold steps, made of metal, and very old. A mother was playing with her very young daughter (most likely 2 or 3), and decided to take her over to the slides. For some reason I was near the slides, and for some other unknown reason I volunteered to stand by the side of the slide in case the little girl fell. Out of kindness the mother accepted my "help" and took her daughter to the top of the slide and let her go. I was standing on the left side of the slide.
Before the girl had even made it half way down she lost her balance, teetered, tottered, and plunged over the side rail of the slide - the left rail. She plummeted a good six feet before landing face-down of the ground about a meter and a half in front of where I was standing. There was nothing I could do but be shocked and look confused.
How could I let this happen?
Her mother of course rushed over and picked up her bawling daughter. That image of the little girl, crying her eyes out, gravel and dirt ringing her open mouth, is a permanent snapshot in my head. The mother hustled off to care for her child, and I left to wander the playground.
Looking back now, I see, of course, that there was nothing at all I could do. Even my volunteering to look out for the child's safety was a useless and empty gesture. I was five; what could I possibly have done? Let her land on me?
Still, the event haunts me as a situation where I could have done something more. Maybe it serves as a motivation to get involved now. Maybe what I couldn't have done then, I can make up for now.
Who knows why we keep the memories we do?
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