Ruminating On:

My Semi-Fictional Life #121 (My Earliest Memory)

Hello peeps. Today I have a personal story for you. I hope you dig it.

Researchers say that a child doesn’t start retaining memories until around three years old. This goes against some people’s claims that they have memories as far back as their own birth. Mine doesn’t go that far back, but it’s close.

My earliest memory is of my father’s mother, Beulah Blackwood. I recall vividly having crawled under her coffee table and rolling over onto my back. I gazed up through the beveled glass, on which rested a plain white coffee mug and a navy-blue bible. Grandma Blackwood stepped up to the end of the coffee table and stared down at me smiling, her weathered face speaking clearly of her Native American heritage and rough life. Her silver and black hair was in curlers, and her thick glasses gave her eyes an owlish appearance. I laughed and placed my hand on the glass above me. She smiled back, leaned over, and placed her hand atop mine, only the glass between us.

My mother remembers this, as well. Only difference is, she says my hand didn’t reach the glass. My arm was too short. Mom also says my description of Grandma Blackwood, whom I’ve never seen in photos, is spot on.

The thing is, Grandma Blackwood died in February of 1981. I was born in August of 1980. Should I remember this? People smarter than myself say not. But I do. I can close my eyes right now and see it as if it happened moments ago. 36 years in the past just like it was this morning. Dig it.

What’s your earliest memory? Let me know by commenting on this post, wherever you might come across it.

See you tomorrow,

E.

Pic of the Day

16388263_1259451167480510_4345597172822923300_n.jpg

 

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “My Semi-Fictional Life #121 (My Earliest Memory)

  1. My earliest memory is probably from about 3-4, but I had formed a false memory of an earlier episode when my mom had put a pair of blue gloves on me and I was terrified. When I told my mom about the details of my ‘memory’ it turns out it didn’t happen where I thought it did, so obviously I’d formed a false memory based on my mom’s story about the incident. On the other hand, my mom claims to have had a recurring nightmare of being born (with a c-section). She thinks that’s a genuine memory and I guess, who knows? It’s possible children can remember things from earlier too.

  2. My earliest memory is kind of funny, actually. I don’t know how old I was, but I was still in diapers.

    My mom was in the bath tub, and I was walking around in the bathroom, and she asked me if I wanted to get in with her. I climbed in, diaper and all, and sat down. I remember the diaper basically going FWOOP and the sensation of all of the water being sucked up by the diaper all around my baby buns. My mom laughed and called me silly because my eyes got wide.

    I think I was in the 1-2 stage. I was a pretty clever kid and hit all of my milestones early. I could point and tell you what letter in the alphabet was what when asked by nine months old, which I vaguely remember doing with my grandma writing down random letters in a coloring book of mine and asking me to point to the letter she said. So that might actually be my earliest memory instead, come to think of it.

Comments are closed.