Saturday, January 03, 2009

Memory 3

I don't know how old I was but probably very young. I remember the dark of a black cab. I remember the glow of the streetlights and the old vans with the Evening News logo. I don't remember getting into the cab or out but I imagine the ride was from Victoria to Grove Park, Camberwell, where my grandmother used to live.

I remember my grandmother's black hair and parchment skin. She had a very strong resemblence to Madame Jiang Qing, and this resemblance grew stronger as both my grandmother and Jiang Qing, both grew older. When we were around her, she and my father would talk about spiritual evolution but it was always more Blavatsky than Teilhard de Chardin, but at that age, I'd heard of neither. I thought my grandmother very wise for a very long time.

I guess we all think our forbears wise until we grow into our own wisdom. I hope mine isn't long in coming.


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