- My home burned down when I was in kindergarten. I was in the paper and on the news because we had just gone through a fire safety lesson and I knew what to do, and I did it. I was the most calm little kid you could have ever seen with her home burning down. My parents weren't even that calm, I was calming them. Yeah, got a framed certificate of approval and everything.
I'd give all that recognition back for it to have never happened. Not because of material possessions, but because of the animals we lost in the fire and the memories I hold. Only one cat survived, and she lived to a ripe old age of 21. I recently watched the recording of the interview my mom did for the news, and I cried, a lot. It still plagues me, and not just because of watching the video, I watched the video because of some of the memories I had ... and recovered.
See, I'd always remembered glimpses of that night before a particular event. I can tell you I'll never watch Ladder 49 again. Sure, I'll give it the credit, it's a great movie ... but I won't watch it again. I'll be damned if that movie didn't stir memories I didn't know I had. I know they're not fabricated because I've asked my parents about them. The stuff actually happened. After 20 (give or take) years I remembered things that I didn't before. I still am. It's weird and confusing. Let's move on to another event.
- I was in the house when my grandmother died. She was an RN, she knew what she wanted to do when the time came, so she opted to stay at home instead of going into a nursing home or the hospital, and she had hospice come in to care for her, along with my mother. I remember parts of that night originally, but I've been remembering other pieces as well.
That, I will admit, does upset me outwardly. It brings tears to my eyes and a swoop to my mood. I remember scenes, as in, visually ... but I also have been FEELING that anguish when I remember the visual. It's not like a movie without sound, like a lot of my memories about it are. I recently remembered going outside and flipping absolute shit and throwing everything I could get my hands on. I tore the back yard apart. Then I took off. I went walking down the street, crying, upset and just crushed. Now I remember hearing my dad trying to talk catch up to me, trying to talk to me, and my inability to answer, like I was trapped in my brain.
- I was also present when my husband's uncle passed. Literally, we watched his last breaths. I can see it just as clearly as if it were yesterday. Lately though, there have been more and more little signs pointing to him.
Right after his uncle died it was the strangest thing. We all know I'm an animal lover, and toads are included in that. The very night he died I was outside and saw one hopping around. I picked that little sucker up and for the first time EVER it just sat in my hand, looking at me. It didn't pee on me, it didn't try to hop away, it didn't do anything. It then started chirping at me. I sat with it for a long time, occasionally petting it, and it would chirp even louder. I even took it into the little shed with me to talk to my FIL and husband, and it sat right on a table next to me, not moving.
Every once in a while it would chirp and then quiet back down. Strangest damn thing. Ever since then, I see toads and I give them much more respect than a normal person probably does. They're now '"Uncle" Toads'. Not all of them are, only certain ones. The ones that chirp and stick around. Usually it's with uncanny timing when I find one, but the message is still clear. My husband, my FIL, my SIL and my BIL know about this too and each in their own way takes it to heart. They all respect toads a little bit more, but when I pick one up and it reacts the way only an '"Uncle" Toad' does, they get a little quiet and change gears. It's something I can't describe, and it's a little too intimate to even try to, so I'll leave it at that.
I want to know why I'm getting these memories all of a sudden. I have dealt with each of these things, I've grieved, I've cried, I've talked about them. It doesn't bother me to have a conversation about them. Yet these new memory fragments, feelings, etc. are so confusing and upsetting when they hit. Why now, why not before? Why am I FEELING everything so much? What the hell is all of this pointing to?
Have any of you ever experienced something traumatic, and years later, when you thought you were past it, been flooded with new memory of the event, feelings, etc.?
What did you do about it, or what did you think about it?
