I remember a time long before my little bro (who's quite the man now himself) came along. Indeed, that time the thoughts of being the only son had been hardwired into my living. I had my sister for company then. It was me, her, mum, dad, and my Uncle, Mike, Dad's younger brother and the youngest in dad's family who became my oldest best friend, besides Mum and Dad.
Oh, how quite unrosy things were that time. First, there was me and my polio. Money difficultly earned went into ensuring I received adequate attention at the hospital. And my dad was the only one working then. I developed my infrangible bond with mum during those times while she held my arms as we traveled crowded sidewalks and my fingers when I looked into the eye of the syringe right before they pierced my flesh (which they did with abandon anyway), while she pouched me in her arms when I could walk no longer. She never gave up on me and by God! she thought me to never give up on myself.
Despite my disability, I never missed daycare which she was in charge of. In fact, I've never missed any part of schooling.
I went to Nursery and Primary School with my sister. Though I was two years ahead of her when I started, she caught up with me in no time, scaling levels because the teachers found her too good to be behind. Educationally, she was my inspiration. Dad was my hero. Even with the very tight, almost nothing, budget, our school fees always got paid and never came in late. How he used to do it, I never know, don't still know, because as much as I know, he has this no borrowing policy that I have strictly adhered to and which has kept me away from undue trouble.
Those times, I used to wear calipers on my infected right leg. It was in my final year I got rid of it after training myself to walk without it, an arduous task I continue to fail at today.
We took the Common Entrance together. We passed. Confident of my progress, Mum decided I move to a boarding school (the best decision ever) that was as far from home as another city while my sister attended a Day School close to home. Oh, it was about this time, my brother came.
Oh, the memories.
High school started a whole different story for me as a whole lot of important events that would shape my life started to take place. Exactly what High School does to any man in his life.
(Keep it a date with me next week for What Late Years)
Love you all.
Quote Of The Day
"Growing up means learning what life is. When you're little, you have a
set of ideals, standards, criteria, plans, outlooks, and you think that
you have to sit around and wait for them to happen to you and then life
will work..."
~C. JoyBell C.
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