The First Thing I Remember

Catharina as a child, by Frans Hals.
 In her hand she holds a silver rattle
 with bells, a precious status
 symbol. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

For my narrative paper, I decided to write about the first thing I remember (at least, I think it's the first thing).  I could have picked a lot of other memories, but this one has stuck with me, and I thought it was about time I figured out why it has.  Here goes.
I am about 4 years old.  I am waking up on the old sofa in my grandmother's living room at her old house in Joliet.  My grandmother comes in and helps me put on my socks.  And that's it, the whole thing.  
When I started thinking about it this time, I realized I had some questions.  First of all, why was I alone?  Usually, when I stayed at Grandma's house, at least my sister Rebbie was there, too, if not one of my brothers or our oldest sister, Marie.  I'm guessing that my mother was in the hospital again (she had kidney disease), and my dad took me to Joliet because it was summer and he didn't want Marie, who is 10 years older than I am, to have to deal with all 4 younger kids.  I also guess that my brother Peter, who is the second oldest went to our other grandparents in Chicago, because he and Marie were fighting all the time.
My other questions had to do with my grandmother, and after I spent some time brainstorming about her, I realized that she is the reason I still remember this.  I haven't quite gotten to a thesis yet, but I will.

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