Early Memories

I know it’s different for everyone, how memories transcend time and what details remain… I wanted to share an example from my own life.

We always made a big deal out of going to Sacramento when I was a child. My grandparents lived there, my mother’s only sister lived there. We memorized the landmarks along the way so we wouldn’t have to use up our “Are we there yet?” allotment.

I remember going to Sacramento for a funeral and being held in my sister’s arms at a ‘chapel’ with sunshiney windows. The color I remember was burgundy or brown, probably the upholstery and rugs or draperies. Either I told her or was thinking I wanted to see what everyone was looking at, who was in the box? She lifted me up (However old I was, I was that small) and I saw a very old looking person apparently asleep in a strange bed. I guess from everyone talking I knew this person was dead, although it didn’t bother me a great deal. I remember going outside with the procession, there were very green lawns on gently rolling hills. We went up one hill near a row of oleander bushes. I remembered them because we had the same kinds at our house, pink, white, red… There was fake grass covering the piles of dirt on either side of the big hole that was already there. I could also hear the traffic from the freeway, although I couldn’t see it. With anticipation for what was going to happen, I heard some additional words being said before they actually lowered the casket with a motorized thing. I waited for them to cover it, don’t think it happened while I was there.

When I was about 17 or 18 I went with a boyfriend to that cemetery, East Lawn in North Highlands, California. I guess I didn’t know then that you could just go in the office and “ask directions”. We drove around looking for the oleanders, and when I found them I got out of the car and could hear the traffic from the freeway. We began looking around and with only a little effort we found my mother’s grandparents, Robert and Olive Stewart.

No one in my family has been able to verify which great grandparent it was that I saw. (figures)It could even be that I remember both of them, and the memory fused into one. If it was “Bampa”, I was just 6 months old. A stretch, but possible. I have other memories from the crib period. If it was “Ma-maw”, I was 5 years old.

My point is that fragments of memories like that can lead to incredible findings. It may be the little clue that is the difference between two entirely different families that appeared the same.

Have any of you ever had a similar experience?

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