This week's catalyst for Creative Therapy involves your first memory. Mine goes way back, when I was probably about two, in my crib. I remember waking up, to what in my mind's eye was in the middle of the night, standing up and grabbing the bars of my crib, and calling for my mother. I remember watching the dark doorway for her, and and seeing her arrive. She picked me up put of my crib, and that's where the memory ends. Although it's a gray, sleepy scene in my mind's eye, it's still a warm memory. My mother was there for me when I needed her, and 37 years later, she still is.