…or if we’re going to be completely honest, here’s what actually happened:
We, for reasons beyond me, seem to keep spare change in an old, unused vase. I shook some coins out and chose one at random. It showed me the year 1971 which, you know, is pretty great but I don’t think I was doing much given I wasn’t even born then.
I was more successful on my 2nd attempt and even a little surprised. I have had some pretty memorable years in my life that I have tons to say about, however 1997 wasn’t one of them. Nonetheless, here goes nothing…
I was ten! Not much was happening in life for me aside from relentlessly fighting with my three year old brother and wishing I had a sister! I do have one incident from that year which really stands out in my memory. It was August, so summer holidays, and I was at home. I recall waking up and heading to the living room where my father was standing in front of the television watching the news. I asked him where my mother was but got no response.
I looked towards the television to see what it was that had so much of his attention and noticed the photo of Princess Diana. I looked back at my father and he had a shocked look on his face. I asked him, ‘did she die?’ he simply nodded his head, eyes not leaving the television.
I don’t even know how I knew who she was. I didn’t live in the UK at the time so my best guess is we must have learnt about her at school. Either that or I saw pictures of her in one of my mother’s many magazines. I just remember feeling sad and thinking ‘but she was so pretty’ like that was a valid enough reason not to die. The thoughts of an innocent child with such little insight into the workings of the real world.
A lot has changed since then. I am older (not necessarily wiser!) I get along much better with my brother AND I have the sister I always dreamed of having! Oh and also, I almost never miss a documentary about Diana.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Buffalo Nickel.”