Remembering Youth Without the Smiles

I was having a discussion with a friend about childhood and the time in our lives which shapes us the most. We talked about our grandparents’ failing memories; How they seem to lose most of them but those from a certain point in childhood remain vivid.

In my childhood photos I can hardly recognise myself. I got used to the images of me as a child smiling. But around the forced expressions I see a little boy I didn’t used to think was really me. As time goes by I’m beginning to feel that maybe these images are the only ones I’m really in. Though it’s difficult to know as by the time I sort through these thoughts and put them into words, I forget why I’m doing it.