Memories fade, but do they ever go away?

Tomorrow is President's Day, and it's also an anniversary of a day a long time ago that lurks in the back of my mind, always.  My mother died on February 18, 1961.  I was four.

I often wonder where life would have led me had she never developed a brain tumor---completely different than what I know now.  My dad, after her death, remarried and then had three more kids, making a new life for himself and for me.    Life is what it is.

I've heard people say that children really don't remember events when they are young--I'll counter that with the fact that I DO remember, and a traumatic event such as a death, abuse, homelessness, a move, or an illness will stay with a child forever.  Hopefully, the traumatized child will be resilient enough to move beyond the event as he or she gets older, but I work with lots of kids who need extra boosts and a listening ear from caring grownups.


There's no moral to the story here.  This is part of me, and helped make me into who I am.