In between the melting snow of spring, and North American buildings, lies Toronto, Canada – the city I was born in. Whilst it missed out on seeing me grow up, it keeps my early childhood memories close to its heart. Yet how is it, that the memory that stays most alive, is the one that saw me leave?
A little underground apartment, hours away from Toronto, piled full of boxes, marked a journey that completely changed my life. Confusion was overcome with joy, as I allowed excitement to hunt my doubts. Far away from the country I once called home, AirFrance transported me to my new one.
Mixed memories of different countries
It can indeed be very disturbing for children to move to another country during their early childhoods. All the memories they built in a culture and a language might be shattered by their new environment and altered in between the land they are living in. In my case, I only remember the paper boxes piling up and the plane that brought me to France. Every memory I have from Canada is forever locked and will never come to the surface. No matter which picture or recording I look through I can’t find any memories of life in Canada. It just feels like I’ve been severed as in the American show Severance where people don’t remember any parts of their working days. More than anything else the fragmentation stands out in the language. Those memories I had in English, a language that I only learned again recently in my life which made them frustrating for the young version of me.
Regardless of age, moving to a new country is certainly daunting, but for very young children, it can be a tremendous upheaval. Early memories in one culture and one language could be overpowered by the new ones made in the next. In my case, I only remember the paper boxes piling up and the plane that brought me to France. Every memory I have from Canada is under lock and key, and can never truly come to the surface. No matter which picture or what recording I look at, I was too young and it was just too long ago. Retracing proper, preserved memories of Canada, is practically impossible. It’s as though I’m Mark Scout, trapped on the Severed Floor, perpetually barred from unlocking the memories of my younger days. Moving from Canada to France created a division, not only between the culture but also the language – perhaps the most fragmented part of my memories overall. It was only until recently, when I started to use the English language more frequently, that memories from my childhood resurfaced. Memories not only locked overseas, but also within a whole new world of words.
Discovering your first memories again
In order to finally discover more about yourself and your first moment of consciousness you ought to discuss with your family to pierce through the secrets of what you first remember. “We were moving back to France so you could grow up knowing the rest of the family. You were so excited to meet your grandparents ” my mother told me when I expressed my doubts to her. Another way of finding peace with your nationality mixed up memories is to travel back where they are from and finally discover the truth about your culture, your language and the moment that you have lived in the past.
Want to discover more about yourself and your memories? Take my advice, and speak to your family. They may be able to help you piece together your fragmented memories, and uncover your earlier moments of consciousness. As my mother told me when we moved to France: “We were moving back to France so you could grow up knowing the rest of the family. You were so excited to meet your grandparents.” As a young child with no real perception of what was happening around me, her words soothed my troubled soul. Likewise, a good way to come to terms with your memories, is to revisit them (if you can)! Travelling back to Canada with my sister and parents enabled me to learn more about the culture, language and memories that I was born into.