Friday, August 20, 2010

My Earliest Memory

I promised in my birthday post (9 August) that I would relate my earliest memory.
The occasion was the return home of my mother, after she had been away to have a baby.
But more than twenty years would pass before I would find out which sibling was being brought home when the particular incident took place.  My mother and I were talking about the "abandonment issues" I had as a young child.
That poor woman could not be out of my sight for even one second without my going berserk.
I had to know where my mother was at all times; it was really bizarre because I was a fifth child and was surrounded by older siblings. But if my mother was out of my sight, I cried uncontrollably.
I remember the terror I felt if I didn't know where my mother was and I remember my sister trying to calm me down, telling me Mom was "just in the yard next door hanging the laundry" or "just in the bathroom" or "just" somewhere nearby.
On this particular occasion, my Mom had gone away for lots of days to have a baby (what the heck did that mean anyway?).
And the woman who stayed with us was really mean -- not at all nice like my Mom.  She made me eat food I didn't like and it was awful having her there!  (My mother ran damned near a restaurant-style kitchen, catering to her large family's food preferences -- hence a household full of very fussy eaters.)
I remember sitting at the "kids' table" by the kitchen window, eating pea soup (which I still love to this day) and seeing the car pull up in the driveway.  My Mom got out of the car and was coming into the house.
"Mommy, mommy, mommy," I squealed.
I jumped up from the table with excitement, and in the process my soup bowl went flying upward and landed on the floor, making a terrible mess. I ran to the hallway to meet my Mom, and the horrible lady yelled at me to come back and sit down -- and just look at the mess I had made!
Being me (headstrong and independent even then), I just kept going -- making a beeline for my Mother and almost knocking her over in my excitement to see her.
I was trying to grab my mother's leg and hug her, and the awful lady was pulling me back, telling me to go sit down and finish my lunch (I'm not sure how she thought I would do that, since my lunch was spread all over the floor by then).  She said I could see my Mother later, after she got settled and took care of the baby.
I was devastated!  My mom had been away for what seemed like forever and this horrid woman was telling me to wait?  (Small wonder I remember the incident!)
Anyway, some twenty years later when I described the incident to my mother, complete with a full description of the house layout, she was stunned.
She insisted that there was no way in hell I could remember that!
Why?
Because the baby she was bringing home that day was my next younger sister, who was born on 22 May 1952.
I can unequivocally state that my earliest memory dates back to before I was 22 months old.  If I could draw, I could create a picture of the kitchen and the hallway and that crushed little girl trying to see her mommy after a very long absence.
While I've never pursued the study, I've often wondered if such early memories are common. Is there proven, documented evidence of a memory by someone at an age earlier than 21 1/2 months?

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