52 Weeks of Personal Genealogy and History - Earliest Memory

Each week GeneaBloggers and Amy Coffin publish a topic for genealogists to publish on their blogs or to record in their computers or journals. This week's topic (week #37) is "Earliest Memory".

Me and my sister not long before the Great Tragedy
of which I write.

They say that the memory of traumatic experiences stay with you for a lifetime. My earliest memory is of the first tragedy I experienced when I was only three years old. On this fateful night, my parents decided to go out on a date. This was unusual as I don't remember very many times that both my parents left us children with strangers at night. On this occasion, they took my sister and me to the nursery on the Air Force base where my dad was stationed. I had never been there before and was frightened, but I had to be brave for my younger sister so she wouldn't cry. That wasn't as difficult as it sounds because I had a secret weapon. You see, I had my Blankey! Blankey was my constant companion and I violently resisted all efforts made by my parents or anyone else to separate me from it.

I don't remember much about the nursery except that there was a room with a lot of beds (probably cots). I remember that my sister and I were put in beds/cots next to each other and we went to sleep. I know that I fell asleep tightly clutching Blankey in my little hands. The next thing I remember is my parents waking us up and carrying us out to the car. I was so relieved to see them and escape that awful scary place and settled blissfully into my place in the car. Part way home, I realized Blankey was missing! I started to yell that it was gone and my parents immediately went back to the nursery to find it. Alas, it was nowhere to be found. I was devastated! I know that I must have grieved for the loss of Blankey because I still vividly remember the moment I realized it was gone forever. My mother says that I eventually learned to live without it, but my sleep was uneasy for a while until then.

At some point I started to suspect that my parents had left Blankey there on purpose to wean me from it. I'm not sure how long after the tragic loss that I came to that conclusion but it was probably some years later as a three year old doesn't usually have sophisticated reasoning skills. I kept my suspicions to myself until my rebellious teens when I confronted my mother. She emphatically denied the accusation then and continues to deny it today. But I still wonder...

Rest In Peace, my beloved Blankey. You are lost but not forgotten.