What is Your Earliest Memory?

I have written many a blog about my freaky long-term memory where I can travel back in time and picture everything in regard to a specific memory. I remember things that others do not, such as events in early elementary school, and the names of every teacher I had. I have a few friends that share this trait with me, but for most of my friends from the very way back days, I AM their memory.

I got the idea for this from Stella McCartney – yes Paul’s fashion designer daughter, but it is a longer story so let’s just move on and reminisce.

I have some very early memories, starting when I was in a crib, and then when I was walking and talking. Truth be told, these cute little stories about me were repeated to me by parents or grandparents so many times, it may not be my actual real memory, even though I can travel back in time and see myself as I was back then for these stories.

My earliest memory is climbing out of my crib and making an escape. I concede that I would have been about a year old or so, and that it may be influenced by what I was told.

My dad told the story of me when I was about 2 years old and a little talking machine, (still the same I guess) of me standing outside on our “stoop” and greeting every passerby with “Hi Man, Hi Lady,” depending on their gender. I swear I remember and can picture me doing this – but again it is such an early memory, it is suspect.

A more real memory is being around 3 years old and being fed crayons and cigarettes by a bad person never to be spoken about by name. I landed in the emergency room to get my stomach pumped and I remember it. (Unfortunately Trauma is easy to remember)

A true memory that I for certain have, that no one ever repeated to me; but I remember it vividly and can picture myself at the exact scene, with smells and sights included. I was four years old and was in the hospital and getting my umbilical hernia operated on. This was back in the days when parents did not stay overnight in the hospital to comfort their child, and I was left alone in my hospital crib and was very frightened. A grandparent came and visited earlier that day and gave me a snow globe to admire and shake and play with, and I would not let go of it. When a nurse came by later, she snatched it from my little hands and put it on a nearby table that I could not reach. I remember being scared and upset and crying and crying to no avail. It was pretty traumatic. It was my first snow globe and I loved it. No one but me would remember that story as no one else was around, so I know that is an accurate one.

I also remember being five years old and getting my tonsils out, but I do not have unpleasant memories of that, only pleasant ones of eating a lot of ice cream.

My long-term memory really gets vivid around Kindergarten. I remember my first drop-off day and my friends, my teacher, and the housekeeping corner. I also remember when my grandmother asked me about school that year, I answered that I had five boyfriends and I remember my grandmother vigorously laughing at that. I was a tomboy and had more friends who were boys than girls at that point, and I thought it was the most normal thing in the world, but I guess it sounded like a romantic thing to my grandmother. Later when I began Brownies and Girl Scouts, I had more female friends, but I ALWAYS ALWAYS had guy friends, and still do today. It shouldn’t be a point of differentiation anyway as far as I am concerned, but even now it may seem suspect to some people who truly believe that males and females cannot be platonic friends. I happen to have fantastic male friends that I would never want to lose and I do platonic like a pro and have done so since Kindergarten.

From Kindergarten, I remember so much about my first grade experience, abbreviated as it was as I skipped to second grade in the middle of the year to finish out the school year in June as a completed second grader. My teacher for first grade was Miss Phillips, and she did not mind my overly enthusiastic waving my hand to read aloud all the time. But then I was yanked and put with Mrs. Elkins in second grade and the first few days, I felt homesick and cried. I vividly recall this. Eventually I adjusted.

In third grade, I had a teacher who was not the nicest person, Mrs. Sickler, but I had great friends and learned a lot. The low-light of the year was my desk-adjoining seat-mate Barry Schl____ vomiting all over me one day. I also recall Mrs. Sickler criticizing my coloring and handwriting. Oh well. Being a romantic prodigy, I had a boyfriend that year, Richard R, who gave me a bracelet, and a mosaic tile set for my birthday, and then when he started getting teased by other boys, he had to try to flip me over in the schoolyard at recess. That was the end of that romance

By fourth grade, I had my favorite teacher ever, who lived in our neighborhood, Miss Cohn. I have been in touch with her once on Facebook and told her so. I was lucky enough, after a summer of praying, to get her again for fifth grade, as they moved her up to teach that and I was in her class again. I had a boy I crushed on that year through middle school, and another boy’s mother announced to my mother that he had a crush on me, though he tortured me in class.

I will end this here, because I want to hear your stories. Besides, who wants to hear about all my school years and teachers? BORING.

I appreciate my long term memory, but wish my short term memory was as crackerjack.

Let’s hear from you.