Why do things stick with us for so long?

I am going to relate a story that happened many years ago... I think I was about 5, which means this took place over 40 years ago.  Jeez, I feel old when I write that.

I had an uncle whom I love dearly.  His name was Bernard, but everyone called him Sonny.  I called him Uncle Sonny or occasionally Uncle Funny Bunny.  He was married to a woman named Florence, my Aunt Flo.  A crazier bitch on wheels never existed but when you are 5 and she is the wife of your favorite person in the world, you don't make such distinctions.  Aunt Flo and Uncle Sonny had 2 daughters, both a few years older than I am.  They were the first grandchildren born into the family and of course were royally fussed over by the grandparents who were still alive at the time.  Then my brother was born, but that was all right with Aunt Flo because he was a boy and not really competition for her princesses.  Three years later, all hell broke loose.  I was born.  I was very pretty when I was little and my mom loved to dress me in the finest that Bloomingdale's children's department had to offer. 

Aunt Flo HATED me.  With more passion than I knew existed.  I was competition for her shining stars.  Of course, I had no idea of the dynamics of the situation, but I could tell when someone didn't like me.  And she didn't.  She fussed over my brother - the little psychopath that he is.  But she ignored me, said very cruel things to me and shut me out.  She only did this when no one could see but me, so my mother couldn't understand why I cried when Aunt Flo came near me.  When I was 5 and my brother Alex (the psychopath) was 8, Aunt Flo came over with her girls.  We were still living in Brighton Beach back then and we went to the park across the street.  I can remember the sunshine and the morning glories blooming against the fence.  While my parents and my uncle stayed in the house to talk, Flo stayed with the 4 of us kids in the park.  She had this huge handbag - that seemd to be the style back then.  She took out 3 chocolate lollypops and gave them to her girls and Alex.  When I looked up at her for mine, she just laughed at me and said "What makes you think I would give you one!"

I'm still trying to get that damn lollypop.

Why do things stick with us for so long?

I am going to relate a story that happened many years ago... I think I was about 5, which means this took place over 40 years ago.  Jeez, I feel old when I write that.

I had an uncle whom I love dearly.  His name was Bernard, but everyone called him Sonny.  I called him Uncle Sonny or occasionally Uncle Funny Bunny.  He was married to a woman named Florence, my Aunt Flo.  A crazier bitch on wheels never existed but when you are 5 and she is the wife of your favorite person in the world, you don't make such distinctions.  Aunt Flo and Uncle Sonny had 2 daughters, both a few years older than I am.  They were the first grandchildren born into the family and of course were royally fussed over by the grandparents who were still alive at the time.  Then my brother was born, but that was all right with Aunt Flo because he was a boy and not really competition for her princesses.  Three years later, all hell broke loose.  I was born.  I was very pretty when I was little and my mom loved to dress me in the finest that Bloomingdale's children's department had to offer. 

Aunt Flo HATED me.  With more passion than I knew existed.  I was competition for her shining stars.  Of course, I had no idea of the dynamics of the situation, but I could tell when someone didn't like me.  And she didn't.  She fussed over my brother - the little psychopath that he is.  But she ignored me, said very cruel things to me and shut me out.  She only did this when no one could see but me, so my mother couldn't understand why I cried when Aunt Flo came near me.  When I was 5 and my brother Alex (the psychopath) was 8, Aunt Flo came over with her girls.  We were still living in Brighton Beach back then and we went to the park across the street.  I can remember the sunshine and the morning glories blooming against the fence.  While my parents and my uncle stayed in the house to talk, Flo stayed with the 4 of us kids in the park.  She had this huge handbag - that seemd to be the style back then.  She took out 3 chocolate lollypops and gave them to her girls and Alex.  When I looked up at her for mine, she just laughed at me and said "What makes you think I would give you one!"

I'm still trying to get that damn lollypop.