There are times when an image will appear in what is called "the brain's eye, " which is another way of saying a memory. I like to call it a "snapshot of a moment in time." It is unknown how many "snapshots" we have filed away, or how the brain uses "triggers" to call them up, but at any given moment, for whatever reason - be it a sound, a song, a smell or a voice, the brain can conjure up a "snapshot" to recall a particular moment in our life.
When we are little, we are most vulnerable to outside influences. Our parents and siblings will form the closest bond with us, therefore most of our memories will be of them. Eventually, we will form memories of schools, teachers, friends and even intangibles such as a favorite tree, the sounds or smells of the neighborhood, or the even feeling we got when walking home from school.
When I was a child I lived the first few years with my mother and father, although some of the time was spent at my grandmother's house when my dad was away on Army training. He was gone when I was born, and when he returned, my parents lived with my grandma for almost a year.
I have "snapshots" of them filed away in my brain of this time. I remember that my dad's hands were bigger and stronger than my mom's. I can recall how he smelled when he held me and I can remember a snippet of his voice as a young man - not the voice he had when he got older. I remember him carrying me while he walked around talking to the neighbors, and of sitting in the front of the car with them as they drove down the road (this was the early 1950's - a time before seat belts.)
I remember a trailer park we lived in and a little girl named Judy. I have the most vivid snapshot in my mind of giving her a chocolate cupcake because I had two and my mom told me to share. When I told my mom of this memory, she was amazed at the accuracy of it. She told me that this trailer park was in Louisiana, that this little girl's family was very poor and the cupcake had been a big treat for little Judy. I never forgot the name. One day, my mom dug through a box of old pictures and found one of me when we lived at that trailer park. I had cut off half of it because I had had an argument with Judy. Maybe I wanted to keep the cupcake!
I even have memories of a time before that, when I was standing in my crib looking towards the kitchen trying to get my mom's or grandma's attention. I don't know how I climbed out, but I remember the fuss everyone made about it. I remember the smell of coffee and the clatter of dishes, then of being scooped up and held in my mom's lap at the table.
I remember my grandma's house and how I liked playing outside in the big yard. But, I also remember a lot of commotion and loud voices. I remember standing by the fence waiting for a Daddy that never returned.
I recall my mom in a beautiful dress, putting on lipstick and then leaving. I hated when she left and would try to go with her, only to be held back by my grandma. I can still hear their voices, raised and angry. I know now that my grandma thought that my recently divorced mom should settle down and raise me while my mom wanted to enjoy her youth. She had been seventeen when she had me, so she still had energy to burn.
Still, to a four year-old, the only thing that mattered was keeping her with me. One day I called her a bad name and she came after me with a belt. My grandma came out of nowhere and put me behind her. The neighbors all came out and yelled at my mom. I have the most clear memory of thinking this would make her stay, but of course it didn't and I stood at the fence and cried for a long time. Maybe in my heart I felt that she no longer wanted to stay with me. Eventually, things escalated to a point where she did not return.
My memories of my childhood with my grandma are the most precious memories in my mind and in my heart. (Other than that of my own children and grandchildren.) I can conjure up images and even smells of that time in my life. I can close my eyes and remember her voice. I remember how she smelled, how she felt, how soft she was, how soft her curly permed hair was, and how beautiful her eyes were (my son Jerry has her eyes). Nothing can ever replace how intensely comforting it was to sit on her lap and let my fingers play with her hair or trace her nose. I remember putting my little hand in her large hand and she would gently squeeze it. She would put me to sleep by singing Spanish lullabies while letting her fingers softly scratch my head. Someone pointed out to me that I am always "scratching" my head, but I am not, I am unconsciously replaying that feeling of comfort.
I remember standing at the bus stop on our way to church on a very cold winter day. My grandma was wearing a long silver fake fur coat that she bought downtown on Houston Street. She opened up her coat and took me into the folds so that I could be warm. I put my arms around her waist and my head up against her belly. The feeling was one of total comfort and safety. Later, with my own granddaughters, I tried to project that feeling on them. I do believe that I was successful.
I have so many "snapshots" that it would be impossible to list them all. Suffice it to say, nothing can ever erase or diminish my memories of my mom or my grandma. Even if there were a few less than pleasant moments in my childhood, I find comfort in those memories because they are of two people I love and miss more than words can describe.
I raised my sons with less than stellar abilities, but I did my best to let them know they were loved, and I never let them know abandonment or hunger. Later, when I raised my granddaughters I had more time to give. I did my best to be the loving, comforting grandma of my memories. No matter what happens, they will have 'snapshots" of that time they spent with me. I did more than "help"- I took care of them during a time when they needed me, I was there day and night for eight years. Nothing can erase or diminish the facts, I loved them enough to put them first in my life and do what was necessary. I am not perfect nor do I claim to be, but one thing I know is that I have never done anything to hurt any child.
I know that the "snapshots" that my sons and my granddaughters have filed away will someday surface and be as much comfort to them as those of my grandma are to me. They will recall the love and comfort, just as I do.
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