What I Don’t Remember…. it happens so unexpectedly….

I have a person who says we knew each other on Japan back around 69 I think…. She reached out to me on FB and she made a comment that I never forgot about something that happened between me and my mother…. at Johnson AFB, Japan…. which is no longer open… 

I had a picture of her in my photo album and that is how I recognized her name when she sent the friend request… at that time, she did not know I was missing memory… so if she commented about Japan our knowing each other, I played along…

I still have no memory of her… yet, I never got rid of the picture I took of her in base housing on our way to school that day….

This is why memory is unique to each and every person on the planet and no two people will remember the same event…. what that means… We all make memories and we all chose when to make those memories….

Memories is a subject I have been all over and I still have barely scratched the surface…. but I always knew, just by listening to people talk about their past and their childhoods… I knew my memory ability was unique, because I could remember all the way back to the first time being hit as a toddler with the old fashion hairbrush mother broke on my backside…. I was not even 2 years old… and that is my first real memory and that is one memory my brain never let go of… sometime I will write how mother turned white a few years ago when I told her I remembered that beating…. that is why my expression when she took my picture… I never would smile for her after that hairbrush, until something happened to make me forget…..

I get most people can not remember their childhood, in fact by the time most adults have hit 40, they are doing good to remember so and so in high school and that is perfectly normal…. for normal memory making people…. I knew, because of the hair brush beating… I was different… the shrink at the El Paso VA set me on my journey, when he said edetic….

Can I remember every second of every day… no and I am grateful I can’t…. Can I remember what my kids or grandkids remember, when I was around them… and that answer is no also and for good reason…

We chose what memories to make… the grand kids have no clue the sacrafices we made for them when they were young…. and they do not remember the rules of society we taught them either… Excuse me, please, thank you, honesty, ethics and much more… if they had… lives might be different… some chose a different path, because our memories we made with them did not stick… they were not traumatic or violent or mean or hateful…. the influence of those around them as they grew took our place, since we were not around for the last 15 years…. What we remember will not be what the kids remember… or our friends… family… memories are individual….

Memories form who we are… I work daily to find any good memories from my parents home…. I work daily for any good memories with my siblings…. I work daily in accepting I can not undo the violence done or the innocence lost…..

I work daily to not be angry with the fact the only reason I have health issues… because people in that home chose to hit on a child, until Japan… and when mother got pissed off and had dad tear into me… what came next left them all terrified….. my heart just beat out of my chest remembering that beating and how sick I was after and no doctors… fear kept me in that house in Japan, because if anyone saw the bruises on my body… dad would be out of the military….

Ya know, every time I talked about being sick in Japan, when we lived in Mena and I mentioned it to mother… she never commented… and it was because she never commented, I knew, the flu had not been my problem…. the nightmare of the beating of him walking down the hall, taking off his belt and I look to the left and see the Japanese bath tub and I remember… and I see sister in the living room smiling….

What did I ever do to you… Why did you hate me so much, you couldn’t wait to see me beaten and when the last time happened… and you yelled at me for reading in bed at night… your hate dripping from your voice… you, who say we are close….

Circle of Silence is no more… I can take no more of my heart beating out of my chest… I just relived the memory… may it finally rest in peace….

TimesUp #MeToo WhyIDidntTell

I Remember… Margie….