Earliest Memory

The earliest memory I have was sometime in 1943. I was less than 1 year old, and my daddy had been drafted into the Army.

He had been inducted at Fort Wolters in Mineral Wells, but before he was done, they sent him to Fort Benning, Georgia, and I guess Mother wanted to see him one more time before he was shipped out to England and World War II.

I can’t imagine how Mother got enough gas stamps to make such a long trip from Stephenville, Texas, to Georgia, but she and Papa drove all the way there just to tell Daddy goodbye.

I never have thought Mother and Daddy had the “great romance”, but there must have been something there to have taken her half-way across the country.

Now, she didn’t take me with her. I stayed with Granny. And that’s the memory I have, standing on a rung of the wooden fence at Papa and Granny’s house and trying to reach through to pet the cow on the other side.

I really can’t imagine Granny actually wanting to keep me, as she never really liked me much. But this was before Papa died, and I think she might have been a much happier, nicer person when Papa was alive.

At any rate, she kept me for what must have been close to two weeks. And I suppose I was happy enough. That memory certainly doesn’t bring any bad feelings.

©2007 Sue Seibert