Remembering my earliest memories


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It’s hard to determine what is the earliest memory I have. Too long ago; memories clump together.

It’s hard to determine the timeframe, especially when one is too young to understand time. When we are young, there is that blissful ignorance of time. Youthful memories are like newspaper scattered on the floor. There’s no context.

There are three early memories I have. I’m pretty sure the first is my earliest but the other two equally stand out as early memories.

The first is laying on my left side in a hospital or clinic. Maybe I received some type of inoculation. There’s no memory of any pain from the injection. The room is dark. I see light coming through the door. It leaves a pattern on the wall I’m facing. It’s quiet except for subdued voices coming from the hall.

The second memory has to do with a trip to a fun fair at some type of Catholic facility. At one point, I’m with my brother and other children before a hallway door frame. There a sheet covering the door. It’s probably waist high. We can’t see over. We held fishing poles and sat on the floor. The fishing lines went over the top of the sheet. Someone on the other side placed a prize on our hooks. I could hear voices. I don’t remember what I “caught.” It might have been something round, like a plastic bangle.

Later, I remember walking outside in the grass. It was a sunny day. The terraced grounds had rock walls. Maybe it was a cemetery? I don’t remember.

The third early memory took place either before or after a wedding. It might have been a reception. I’m standing in a hallway with my parents and brother. The folks are talking to another couple. There were stone arches all around me. I could see the evening darkness through the arches. Someone gave me half a stick of gum.

What’s your earliest memory?

The idea for this blog came from “Writing Down The Bones” by Natalie Goldberg.

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