| The initial imprint |
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Oklahoma, 1954. Our next-door neighbors, the Browns, had been hit by the polio epidemic sometime earlier; Mrs. Brown, though not needing braces or crutches, apparently had some mild damage.
Being four years old (which is, of course, the classic age for an imprint) I just took things as they were and certainly didn't analyze things neurologically. But I have a vague image that her face was pulled vertically, her mouth seemed to have a long 0-shape, and her movements seemed a little slow and "rounded" rather than direct and sharp. Putting that together now, it really seems more like mild CP than the typical polio sequelae, but that's a moot point. For some unknown reason, I spent a fair amount of time over at the Browns' house that year, during the days when her kids were in school. This was the same year when my sister was born, so presumably my mother was just glad to get me out from underfoot. (I don't remember anything that was happening in our own house at that time!) Mrs. Brown actually seemed to enjoy having me around, and she had a unique ability to connect; she participated in various games involving spaceships and walkie-talkies, showed me how things worked, answered questions intelligently, and looked right at me like I was really *there*. All of this was a revelation; my mother, though smart in some ways, has never been able to play, teach, or make that kind of mental contact. CLICK! The pattern was set. All later sightings, at least the ones that really get the old heart thumping, have been variations or exaggerations of Mrs. Brown. I still don't know how she made that soul-contact (or why she bothered, for that matter!), but that connection is obviously the original "rush", the gold that I've been seeking ever since. |