Early Memories?

It has been said by the folks who actually study these things, that early memories are a part of our lives, often hidden in the background, like a lurking feline waiting for the right moment to pounce on the unsuspecting victim … any one of us.

The reality, at least for me, is that some of these early memories made enough of an imprint to have stayed with me throughout my life. In fact, some of them (from about age 5 on) have made it to these posts as narratives.  I suppose there is a message to be analyzed in there, somewhere between the lines. Sometimes I wonder, when wandering into these bits of the past, as to whether some of these memories so vividly remembered are machinations of a fast working mind, or real.

They are a gift...
to be cared for...

 As the old question goes … If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it… Is there sound? So, if these are remembered as memories … are they not so? When we go back as far as we can in our life and try to bring back some of those moments we can usually do so or, at least, partially conjure up the imagery. The earlier we go, the more diffuse these should be, right? In defining early childhood, according to some of the more learned folk, we talk about the period starting at year 1 and going through year 5.

According to the same folks, the early cognitive development is the one concerned with the ways in which infants/children acquire and develop the ability to use mental capabilities like problem solving, memory and language. According to Piaget, this development goes through a set of stages from infancy into adulthood. Others differ and tell us that the process of development is continuous and that it is much too complex to put into “stages”. On the physical plane, vision is slower than hearing in developing; also present from very early on are touch, smell and taste. Language is perhaps the slowest developer in this process. It involves far too many working parts that need to be coordinated.

I remember when my own children were born and then started to venture into through these initial development stages. We surrounded them with all kinds of visual and sound stimuli; they would clearly react to and recognize those which they preferred, over others. As they became older (into the 4-7 age bracket) these preferred items would still elicit a response. Afterwards, the response gradually became less pronounced, until it eventually pretty much disappeared. Apparently at this time, the brain begins to explore the systematic “management” of those symbols which they can relate to specific, concrete objects …

Simple Things make Happy Moments

This is becoming too much for my addled brain to absorb … I will have to consult Cheito on this stuff …

Where I am going with all of this? Early memories are imprinted in our brain; they do exist and they form a base for our later development. Likes and dislikes which we cannot seem to explain as older children and as adults, may well be based on these subliminal memory banks. Yeah, I know … Psychiatrists have been making a regular mint on this issue alone. But all studies seem to point in this direction. My personal interest (besides being just plain curious) is that I do have some very strong and definite moments which have been recorded in my mind, like a DVD which was burnt and is there, to be replayed any time I wish.

The earliest memory I have, and which was disputed by many in my own family … that is … until the one person who could validate it, albeit reluctantly, did so is as follows:  (as I write it here, I am copying from my etched mental image, with a corresponding sound bit attached to it)

I was about 18-20 months old, and was in my room, in the first house where I lived with my mom, dad, and newly born sister; standing inside my crib, literally hanging over the end and peering over to the right, where the front of the house was. As a note: Old inner city houses in Cuba were built on a long axis; as you walked in, the front of the house was composed of an entry hall, a formal sitting room (“Para la visita” – for company), an informal sitting room for the family and then, like ducks in a row, the 3-4 bedrooms, followed by the dining room, bathroom and the kitchen. This last would normally be separated from the bathroom by an independent room, usually taken over by the accumulated junk.

Special people are
always remembered

 Anyway, I was hanging over the end of my crib looking over, when my father walked over and took me in his arms, lifting me from my little prison. Looking straight into my eyes, he said “hasta pronto hijo, regreso el Sábado” –“until soon my son, I’ll be back on Saturday” … then he put me back down and went to my mom and, kissing her, said pretty much the same. Then he left. I was almost nineteen years old next time I saw him.

I do not remember any other details from the inside of that house nor of our relatively short lived stay there, except going across the street to play with my childhood friend Quique. Later on, as I grew from infancy into the ripe old age of 8 or so, I began to ask about those last few minutes prior to my father’s disappearance. No one would acknowledge this little last exchange… “Esas son cosas de niño” … “Qué imaginación tienes!” my grandmother would answer … “those are children’s ramblings … what an imagination!”.  Well, this child never gave up easily (thank God; a trait handed down from my grandfather) and I kept insisting in the truth of my memory and of my story. I was vindicated at about twelve years of age, when my mother finally gave in and admitted that, indeed, that is exactly what my father had said that afternoon and what his actions had been (I also remember it was after lunch, that is why I was taking a nap in my crib…). She could never explain to herself or to me, nor could I to myself, how it is that this particular memory was so exquisitely embedded in my brain… much less how someone who was still not talking much at the time, could remember the exact words/sentences said.

They are indeed the future...

 Often, when we are around young children, the assumption is that they are too little to understand; too young to discern whether we are talking, discussing or fighting. However, in a like manner to our household pets, our children are very much in tune to our shifting moods and respond to them accordingly. Their brains, at that age, are nothing but thirsty sponges, ready to absorb whatever is thrown its way … even if only to be stored for later use. It is our job as parents or, as AInC (Adults in Charge), to make sure that at least the majority of what gets there is usable in a positive, building block kind of way. If you have a child or grandchild, make sure to make good memories for him/her; of difficult moments make memories of growth, persistence and survival ... these are the building blocks which will create character, and which later in life will help open seemingly closed doors and,  when they remain closed, as some no doubt will, these blocks and memories will help deal with the issue in a positive manner, not in a potentially destructive way.

Be Well … Be Back!!!

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