Patridew’s Perfect World: Where selective memory is a girl’s best friend.
Hi my name is Patricia and I have lived in Thailand since 1991, most of those years have been in Bangkok. I married my iron partner (iron sharpens iron) on May 1st, 1982, when I was almost 21 years old. I gave birth to 5 people who willingly call me Mom, or various mood-altered distortions of that. There are others that I didn’t birth who call me mom as well and for that I am glad to be alive.
I have my own personal Star Trek Scotty who beams me up. Memories. Whenever I smell Javex bleach I am beamed into my Grandma Rosebush’s spotless kitchen where I am eating stale marshmallow-filled cookies, trying desperately not to wander off my square of protective newspaper. Whenever I see a ringlet of smoke at the end of a cigarette I am beamed into an 7 year-old who can’t sleep because of growing pains, sitting on Dad’s lap late at night watching a Kirk Douglas movie. The 1960’s – my 1960’s – were coloured in lime-green paisleys and denim- blue. I didn’t grow up in an episode of Leave It To Beaver but more like Little Women directed by Alfred Hitchcock and I am always Jo. After years of futile effort I’ve quit trying to sift through life to dump the bad memories out like weevils in the flour. I could only do that if Time would stay still. A very wise and smart friend gave me some golden advice about three years ago. He said, “Pat, don’t despise your pain.” He knew what he was talking about, so I took his words to heart.
This blog is about coming to terms with all of it, about finding the gift in what I’d categorized as bad and seeing it in a new light. And that, my friend, is the selective part of my memories in my perfect world, a perfect world with just the right amount of imperfection. Welcome to Patridew’s Perfect World!