Memories
Before I start this new entry (first one in a month, I know!) I wanted you to know that I have updated my I Am A Marxist post with the correct dates AND a picture of the actual concert tickets...
They say that when you're an older sibling, your first memory generally has to do with your younger brother or sister. As it turns out, my first memory is the day my sister was brought home from the hospital. I still remember it; not as clear as day, but still pretty clearly. My grandmother was in the country visiting, mainly to take care of me. We were sitting at the dining table in our old apartment in Bloomfield. She was peeling an orange for me. And, as I think I've mentioned before, not just peeling it from the outer peel, but the inside as well, so all I was eating was pure orange. Suddenly, the door bursts open and my father walks in, carrying my sister. A few seconds later my mother walks in, her head covered. Why? Because it was raining out.
That rain had been something of contention between me and my mother for years. I firmly believed it was raining, and she believed it wasn't. This being my first memory, I'd kind of like to think that I knew what I was talking about, but she, for years, kept saying it wasn't raining. But how do you prove that it was raining on a particular day back in... well, for the sake of my sister, I won't provide the year, but let's just say, we're going back a while. So for most of my growing up years, every so often I'd just randomly bring up the fact that it was raining out the day she was brought home and my mother would say no, it wasn't.
So a few years back I was working in the PR department of a hospital. Some days there would be a lot of work to do and others... not so much. On one of these not-so-much days, the whole 'was it raining or not' discussion came into my head, and with the help of the internet, I thought I could prove it once and for all. But amazingly, rain records from that time are hard to come by. The afternoon adventure turned into a week. Every day I'd spend some time trying to figure out what search I could do to come up with the answer. Then, by chance, I happened upon a web site run by someone who said they kept weather charts for that time period. I sent off an email and continued my search. After a few more days, I gave up. I pride myself on being able to find just about anything, but I can only really find something if it's actually on the web.
A couple of months later I get this strange email in my inbox at work. I open it up and there is an email from this guy with the weather charts. And attached is a chart showing the rainfall in our town for the entire week. But there is a catch. It only rained one day that week. I printed out the chart and went home and asked my mother one, very important question. If my sister was born on the 6th, how many days did you spend in the hospital before coming home? My mother thought about it and said she spent three days in the hospital and came home on the 9th. I shouted 'ah ha!' and pulled out my chart. There, in black and white, was a chart that showed that the only day it rained that week in our old town was on the 9th.
I might have said something like 'in your face!' to my mother (in a nice way of course) but most importantly, she had been served with concrete evidence that my memory of the event was correct. And there was nothing she could do about it. The best part however, was the fact that from then on, anytime my mother and I got into an argument about something that happened in the past and we disagreed, I could always bring up the fact that her memory has been proven to be faulty. You know when you get into an argument with a parent, most of the time you, as the child, have to concede because it's just assumed they know more. But not any more. Granted, my mother is still right 99% of the time, but... that's not 100%.
They say that when you're an older sibling, your first memory generally has to do with your younger brother or sister. As it turns out, my first memory is the day my sister was brought home from the hospital. I still remember it; not as clear as day, but still pretty clearly. My grandmother was in the country visiting, mainly to take care of me. We were sitting at the dining table in our old apartment in Bloomfield. She was peeling an orange for me. And, as I think I've mentioned before, not just peeling it from the outer peel, but the inside as well, so all I was eating was pure orange. Suddenly, the door bursts open and my father walks in, carrying my sister. A few seconds later my mother walks in, her head covered. Why? Because it was raining out.
That rain had been something of contention between me and my mother for years. I firmly believed it was raining, and she believed it wasn't. This being my first memory, I'd kind of like to think that I knew what I was talking about, but she, for years, kept saying it wasn't raining. But how do you prove that it was raining on a particular day back in... well, for the sake of my sister, I won't provide the year, but let's just say, we're going back a while. So for most of my growing up years, every so often I'd just randomly bring up the fact that it was raining out the day she was brought home and my mother would say no, it wasn't.
So a few years back I was working in the PR department of a hospital. Some days there would be a lot of work to do and others... not so much. On one of these not-so-much days, the whole 'was it raining or not' discussion came into my head, and with the help of the internet, I thought I could prove it once and for all. But amazingly, rain records from that time are hard to come by. The afternoon adventure turned into a week. Every day I'd spend some time trying to figure out what search I could do to come up with the answer. Then, by chance, I happened upon a web site run by someone who said they kept weather charts for that time period. I sent off an email and continued my search. After a few more days, I gave up. I pride myself on being able to find just about anything, but I can only really find something if it's actually on the web.
A couple of months later I get this strange email in my inbox at work. I open it up and there is an email from this guy with the weather charts. And attached is a chart showing the rainfall in our town for the entire week. But there is a catch. It only rained one day that week. I printed out the chart and went home and asked my mother one, very important question. If my sister was born on the 6th, how many days did you spend in the hospital before coming home? My mother thought about it and said she spent three days in the hospital and came home on the 9th. I shouted 'ah ha!' and pulled out my chart. There, in black and white, was a chart that showed that the only day it rained that week in our old town was on the 9th.
I might have said something like 'in your face!' to my mother (in a nice way of course) but most importantly, she had been served with concrete evidence that my memory of the event was correct. And there was nothing she could do about it. The best part however, was the fact that from then on, anytime my mother and I got into an argument about something that happened in the past and we disagreed, I could always bring up the fact that her memory has been proven to be faulty. You know when you get into an argument with a parent, most of the time you, as the child, have to concede because it's just assumed they know more. But not any more. Granted, my mother is still right 99% of the time, but... that's not 100%.
posted by SC | 1:00 AM
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