Tuesday, June 21, 2016

First Memories

I spent Sunday with my Dad for Father's Day. We went out for Thai food (Dad's favorite) and on the way back we happened to drive past an apartment building that has always been a puzzle for me.

I have a memory of my grandmother (my father's mother) taking my brother and I to visit some elderly couple who lived there when my brother and I were quite young. Somehow I thought the people were related to my dad's father (who died when my dad was still a child), but it was one of those memories that was so murky that I almost thought I might have dreamed it or otherwise made it up.



So I asked my dad about it, and it turns out that his aunt had lived there - his father's sister. My grandmother had apparently maintained a friendship with her even after she divorced my grandfather. Mystery solved! It was kind of validating to learn that I hadn't just made up the entire experience.

Anyhow, that got us to talking, and I asked my dad how old he was when his parent's divorced. He said he was only about 2, but that he could remember back to when they were married.



In fact, his earliest memory was of his father beating his mother. He proceeded to relate the story - for some reason the two of them were fighting (likely, his father was drunk) and his father started to hit his mother. His mother was all dressed up for some occasion wearing a fancy chiffon dress with flowers on it. My 2 year old father, ran to defend his mother. He said he could vividly remember the feeling of the chiffon fabric as he clung to her legs and cried "Don't hit my Mommy!"

Wow. How's that for a first memory? In a funny way though, it sorta reminded me of my own earliest memory.

I was about 2 years old, and I was in the dining room with my mother. I wanted her to pick me up, but she refused. The more she refused, the more panicked I became, until I descended into a full-on tantrum, clutching her around the leg, with both my arms and legs wrapped around her calf. At that point she got very angry, kicked me off of her leg, dragged me down the hall by my arm, threw me in my room and locked the door.



Now, if I had to choose one word to describe my father's personality, It would be: fearful. And I find it very interesting that this emotion is so clearly expressed in his earliest memory.

Likewise, one of the defining themes of my life was a feeling of desperation trying to find a way to get my mother to love me. And if you look at my earliest memory, well, there it is.

So what do you suppose the mechanism is here? Is it that those powerful early experiences leave a profound mark on our psyches? Do certain memories that stick with us because they are somehow representative of our life experience in general? Maybe we simply choose to remember certain things because they fit with the narratives we have created for ourselves. Or maybe it's none of the above and it's just totally random what we remember and what we don't.


Anyhow, I'm curious. What's your earliest memory? Do you see the emotional themes of your life reflected in that memory? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this whole topic.





45 comments :

  1. My earliest memory is of being trapped in my bed in the darkness with no way out - and I was looking for one! Turns out I used to leave my bottom bunk as a very young child and slip under the bed whenever my parents went out in the evenings, so my Dad had put a plank of wood in front of it to stop me getting out. I still remember the utter panic. ♥nic

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    1. Wow. That sounds terrifying. Good thing you dad found a way to keep you "corralled" as it were!

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  2. My earliest memory, and I was around 2 years old, was standing in the bathroom looking way, way up to the top of the bathroom cabinet. On top of the mirrored door was a glass with a cocktail swizzle stick, blue in colour and the shape of a marlin. I wanted it but mum said I couldn't have it because it was my father's.

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    1. Ha! That reminds me of a story a friend told me of when she was very small. She was upset because her mother had ice cream and wouldn't give her any. She screamed and cried and stamped her feet until her mother finally relented and gave her a tiny taste... of Crisco! :-)

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    2. p.s. Crisco is a brand of shortening.... not sure if you have it in Australia or not.

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  3. My earliest memories are vague and not very dramatic. I was two and remember two things about the lady who lived next door to us. She had a pet bird and I remember the pink ruffle she had around the bottom of the cage. In fact, I only remember the bottom of the cage. I guess that was my only vantage point then. I also remember she gave her cat some chicken bones to eat. I thought that was crazy because in my mind, dogs ate bones, not cats.

    I really have no idea why we remember what we do. However, I have heard that we need language for memories. If we don't have words yet, we won't have words to lay down the memory in our brain. That's why we don't have memories of our earliest times.

    One thought was that you and your father may have had more memories than the ones you named, but those were the ones that got reinforced because they were so dramatic. Thus they have stayed with you into adulthood.

    A very interesting subject. I'm gonna have to do more research on it sometime.

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    1. OK, the thing about language being required to form memories is fascinating. Although, those early memories are all just like pictures for me, no real words - but I guess the brain works in strange ways. I also think that you're right that the memories that it's the things that get reinforced that tend to stick with us.

      My dad said he also had a very good memory from when he was a small child. His grandmother was making root beer, and he remembers peering over the edge of a big tub into a seemingly endless sea of root beer and thinking "life is good!"

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  4. They say that memories from before age 3 are usually based on some sort of trauma. My earliest memory from when I was 2 was being stung by a jelly fish at the beach. It isn't the being stung part I remember most vividly, but being carried by a strange man to the lifeguard station, and inside the station seeing all of the bottles and tubes of potions/medications on a shelf on the wall. I was terrified the entire time.

    Your dad's memory and your memory may have been played out several times, IRL, and many times in your memory, making the emotions "stick".

    Now you want to know what struck me most about your post? The fact that you've lived in the same general area for your whole life, to remember that apartment building from your dad's aunt, from when you were a child.

    That's really nice you could spend Father's Day with your dad.

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    1. I think you're onto something about those early memories being based on trauma. Your memory reminded me of one a friend shared with me - she was on a boat (she was a military brat) and fell and hit her head. But the vivid part was being picked up and carried by a strange sailor, which she categorically did NOT like!

      I think you're also right that those experiences were played out frequently for both my father and I. Fighting with my mother was sort of a life-long theme for me, at least.

      And I guess I am an oddity in today's mobile world. I live less than 3 miles from the home I grew up in. And my dad, who turns 84 in a few months, well, he did move around a bit throughout his childhood and early adulthood. But he lives right around the corner from the catholic school he attended as a child, and the boarding house that his grandmother owned. Not sure what that says about either one of us, but I certainly feel grounded here.

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  5. Wow, interesting. I'm not sure what my earliest memory was--I remember camping with my family and being scared because there was a bear in the campground ... and another camping trip where I was told to be careful to avoid the poison ivy and I was terrified that everything green I saw was poison ivy (I'm still bad at identifying it!). I think maybe Lili is on to something with early memories being based on something we perceive as trauma (mine weren't truly traumatic--I was well taken care of--but it clearly left an impression in my mind!).

    I don't know if you learned about Erikson's stages of development, but it was a big part of my college education and is still used for my yearly competency education at work. I think there are a lot of good points about it--the first stage is "trust versus mistrust", i.e. can we trust the world (and adults) we live in. Each stage builds on the next one. I find it much more useful than, say, Freudian theories. Anyhoo, the concept seems to fit in with your discussin today.

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    1. Oops, I meant "discussion"! Here's a link if you are interested: /en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erikson%27s_stages_of_psychosocial_development

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    2. Oh my... a fear of all green plants. You know, when I was in grade school there was some nuclear war movie that came out "The Day After?" maybe? Anyhow, it got me all scared of atomic bombs, and my mom, in a somewhat sideways attempt to comfort me, said that I shouldn't worry about it because we lived very near to the "Federal Center" (which is a collection of federal government buildings) and that she was sure if there was a nuclear war that the Russians would target that center, so we'd be vaporized instantly.

      As you might imagine, I did not exactly find that thought comforting, and it ended up giving me a totally irrational fear of the Federal Center! In fact, on September 11, when I heard the news and realized that the country was under attach, my first involuntary thought was "OMG, how close am I to the Federal Center!" Funny how that stuff sticks with you.

      Anyhow, I have a vague recollection of Erickson's stages of development from psychology classes back in college, but perhaps I'll go read up on it! Thanks for the link.

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    3. For some reason this reminds me about the first time I asked my mom what they do with dead people. She told me they bury them in a box. I imagined a big, cube-shaped cardboard box, and they would put sand in it, then the body, then more sand. And then, I don't know, stack them somewhere.

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    4. Ha! So did you develop a deep and abiding fear of cardboard boxes?

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  6. I think my earliest memory is waiting for mum to get home from the hospital when my brother was born- thing is, I think it's not a real memory as in the memory I am watching myself looking out of the door (if you see what I mean!) and I would have been just less than two.
    I also remember being at nursery school (maybe 4?) and my fifth birthday party.
    It's hard to know what is remembered from the time though and what is remembered by looking at photos. Though I think I remember reading that you aren't actually remembering the event, you are remembering the last time you remembered it, which is why memories fade.

    Also, like you I've not moved far from where I was born- still in the same town, about half a mile from where my parents live/I grew up. My dad is from a village just outside the town, and looking at his family tree his family have been agricultural workers in the area for a good few generations.
    I feel very much that this is my home- I can't really imagine living elsewhere!

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    1. OK... total brain bender - you're not remembering the event, but rather the last time you remembered it. I think smoke might be coming out of my ears as I try to process that thought! I suppose it makes sense though, and I hadn't considered photos, I'm sure that has an impact on what we remember.

      In terms of living in the same place... it's funny - I was actually not born here. My brother and I were both born in Hawaii because my dad had a teaching position at the University there for a few years. But if you ignore that little hiccup, my family has been in Colorado since the 1800s. Of course, by British standards that would make us newcomers, but by Colorado standards we're serious old timers! :)

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    2. I've not traced dad's family that far back- for all I know they could have come from somewhere completely different a generation before I traced them too- but I suspect they've been here for a very long time...our surname is quite common in this part of the country, but rare elsewhere- rumour has it we are Scandinavian invaders of some sort- so probably about 1200 years ;)

      That might all be nonsense though!

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    3. Wow! You're descended from the Vikings! I love family history.

      I joined Ancestry.com for a while, and managed to trace my father's family back to the small towns in Italy and Slovenia where they came from. At that point I would have had to pay a lot more money to go deeper, plus there's the language barrier. But on the Italian side one of the towns has been extensively researched, so I can trace that line back for many generations.

      My mother's side is a combination of Mormons & Mennonites, both of which have pretty complete records. I traced one line on my mother's side back all the way to King Olav of Sweden in the year eight hundred and something.

      And CatMan actually has an ancestor who came over on the Mayflower. I traced one of his lines back to King Charlemagne! Not that any of it matters, it just sort of makes history a bit more personal.

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    4. Wow, you've done way more research than I have!
      Mum is now doing the family tree research- she is much more patient than me! Her dad had done a lot of work on the American side of the family in the days long before Ancestry. I think she eventually found the Allen American line coming over from the UK in the Tudor period (though I think mostly she got lucky and our tree linked into another well researched one!)

      The other side of her family seem to have been fisherfolk, started on the South coast and worked their way round to the North East where mum is from.

      You're right, it doesn't matter, but for some reason I like to know it!

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    5. Ancestry.com makes it pretty easy, although there is still detective work to be done. I had to plow through a lot of ship's manifests to find my great-great grandmother. I KNEW she had to be there, but it was confusing because she was traveling under her maiden name (maybe they do/did naming differently in Italy?)

      Anyhow, I finally found them by searching for the kids' names - which had been completely butchered by the person who transcribed the records - I guess the old handwriting combined with the unusual surname was too much for them (Iarussi somehow became Janoo!) But it was pretty cool when I finally found them - there was even a photo of the ship they came over on!

      So you have ancestors who traveled from America to England?

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    6. My mum's dad had an American dad- though the marriage broke up and my Papa and his brother were separated- his brother stayed in the States (with his paternal grandparents I think) and Papa was collected by his maternal grandmother and brought back to the UK to live with them.
      Ancestry is amazing- we only know that Papa travelled with his grandmother (rather than his mother) because mum found him on the passenger list of the ship.
      Mum has a cousin in California that we've never met, though aunts and uncles came for a visit when I was a teenager. I must get to grips with the family tree better, because I have realised how confused I am by who everyone is!

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    7. Wow! That sounds like a fun story to unravel - especially the long lost cousin thing.

      I was recently contacted by someone on ancestry who was looking for information on her father's birth mother - who turned out to be an older sister of my dad's father. She apparently died when my dad's father was still young. I couldn't help her since we know so little about that side of the family, but it's kinda crazy to realize that there are so many people out there that I'm related to.

      Maybe that's not a big deal to people from big families, but my brother and I have no cousins (dad's an only child and my mother's brother never had kids) so it's always very exciting for me to learn that I have relatives somewhere!

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    8. We have cousins, but I still find it weird that there might be relatives out there I don't know anything about. Someone contacted me on Ancestry trying to work out if we were related (we weren't!) and it was an odd thought that we'd been living in the same town for however many years, not knowing about each other!

      I think mum got in contact with a distant relative she vaguely knew existed over Ancestry and found they had lots in common, which is nice.

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    9. I've made contact with a number of "cousins" (x times removed) over ancestry, but I'm WAY too chicken/introverted to want to meet them in person!

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  7. I was going to say that my first memory is very mundane - of reaching up to the back of a chair, aged about two. I think this one stuck because some years later, when I was taller than the dining chairs, I looked at them and realized they were the same as the one in my memory. It was a shock at the time to realize that I remembered a time - even if only a snapshot - when I was so small. As Nicola said, this memory has been revisited over the years, so it's probably a memory of a memory by now. (I could say more about the nature of memory, but it would be a bit long for a blog post comment).

    But then when I think about it, there is a even earlier memory: A vague impression of sunshine and women in flowery dresses in the garden. There was a very hot summer when I was about eighteen months old, so it's probably from then. Come to think of it, sunshine and flowery dresses could well make up the basis of my memory of my mother.

    I asked my husband and his was a traumatic memory: "Lying on the back seat of a white Austin Princess with brown velour seats, screaming because I'd just cut my head open. Aged about three." It is typical of my husband that this includes a specific description of the car involved (not his parents' car, as they didn't have one at that time).

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    1. Wow, both of your early memories are so calming, with no trace of trauma. And I love the idea that the sunshine and flowery dresses is your first memory of your mother.

      This isn't an early memory, but when I returned from my year abroad as an exchange student (I was 18 or 19 at the time) I remember walking into the living room of our home and thinking how small it seemed. I guess I have so many memories of that room from when I was little, that in my mind it seemed much bigger than it actually was. Funny how that works.

      Anyhow, I had to laugh out loud at your comment of your husband's description of the car. Whenever we watch old movies from the 1950s, CatMan always calls out the makes and models of each car that appears. They all look exactly the same to me, but apparently they are distinctive if "car features" are something that matters to you! :-)

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    2. My boyfriend is the same way. He'll remember--and detect additional information about--characters based on their cars. And he figures out when the movie is set by the cars.

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    3. Ha! Well, I suppose I can't really criticize since I tend to recognize characters (or not) in movies by their hair and clothing!

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  8. PS. Just by chance I spoke to my dad on the phone on Fathers' day (I'd called the day before, but he was busy). I wished him a happy Fathers' Day and he said, "Oh, is it? One of the more recent American imports, I think."

    I was only aware of it myself because the tourist attraction where I'd been working that morning had a special offer on: Free entry for dads with their children (of any age. Tricky when two adult couples of different ages turn up - do I mention the offer and risk offending the older couple if their ages are not so different as I first thought?)

    Anyway, I had a nice chat with my dad, and didn't talk about politics (EU referendum tomorrow. Dad lives in France. Not sure what will happen if Britain decides to leave the EU.)

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    1. Ha! I always refer to holidays like Mother's and Father's Day as holidays invented by the Hallmark Corporation. I'm actually not terribly fond of these guilt based holidays, but the older I get the more I see them as just a nice excuse to get together.

      And I didn't realize that the EU referendum was happening now! I thought it was one of those thing that was being mulled about, but I didn't realize it was up for a vote. Will be interesting to see what happens.

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  9. I have a very clear memory from about the age of three and upward. No particular event but lots and lots of everyday life. When I was three, my parents were married and we all seemed pretty happy. 3 years later my parents did separate and there was a lot of fighting and angst in our household. I typically am a happy person so maybe there is some correlation about your earliest memories planted a seed. However, as my later childhood wasn't so happy, you would think I would of lost my optimism and cheerfulness. I never did.

    Funny that you would write about your early childhood this week...I, also wrote a bit about mine. It seems that the childhood memories that are stressful leave a lasting impression.

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    1. OK, first of all, I didn't know you had a blog! I'm sitting here wondering how much I have been missing all this time! Apparently I'm not very good at keeping track of that stuff - heading straight to my reading list to add you so I don't miss any more!

      Well, whatever the cause, I think it's wonderful that you're generally a very happy person. My parents divorced when I was 4 or 5. I have a few memories of specific traumatic events from that time, but what's interesting is the total lack of day to day memories from the divorcing period. I'm not sure what it means.

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  10. My sister is 13 years older than I am. She had to share not only a bedroom, but a bed, with me when I was small. Suffice to say she moved out when she was sixteen. Anyway, I can remember sitting in the bedroom at the dressing table, I would have been less than 3 years old. It was an old oak thing with a triple mirror fixed to it. I had my sister's lipstick, not only on my face but on the mirror too. My sister burst through the door and "swiped" me off the stool on to the floor. Mum was immediately behind her and "swiped" her across the room after me!! I also remember being terrified of my sister's false eyelashes which were often lying on the side of the wash basin and which I thought were spiders!!
    Another memory involves my dad sitting in our living room watching TV (black and white). My mother had a strange reverse snobbery about the TV and kept it in the cupboard under the stairs, it was only watched in the evening so I hardly ever saw it. But this was definitely in the daytime and my mum was trying really hard to keep me out of dad's way. I can remember being dragged back into the kitchen several times and sent out into the yard. Based on when we lived in that house and "world events", this can only have been England winning the football World Cup in 1966 (when I was 4)!!

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    1. Oh my! I'm sure your sister was not pleased with your lipstick artwork, but her reaction seems a bit extreme. And the false eyelash fear is priceless.

      Your television memory sparked something for me. I have a very murky memory of my parents getting me up in the middle of the night to watch the moon landing. I would have been 2 years old then. I mostly just remember being confused about the whole thing, but they did impress upon me that this was a really big deal - I'm sure that's why I remember it.

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    2. My sister wasn't all bad though. When the living room ceiling fell in, she showed me how to roll back the bedroom carpet so I could watch TV after bed time. I had a major meltdown when I had chicken pox because Gill was the only one who could put calamine lotion on properly, and my parents left her to babysit me once and she got the dog drunk on beer, resulting in me dropping a bottle of lemonade and smashing the hearth tiles (and she took the blame - though she didn't tell about the dog!)

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    3. Wait... the living room ceiling fell in?!? That sounds quite dramatic! I always wanted an older sister. My best friend had one - I remember one night I was spending the night with my best friend when her sister came home late (and drunk, I think) so we made ice cream at midnight!

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  11. Ugh, this is one of those questions that makes me think I have or will get Alzheimer's for sure. I'm not sure what my earliest memory was and I mostly remember snippets and have no idea what age I may have been. Like my grandpa staying over on Christmas Eve to watch me open presents the next morning and then going downstairs and seeing all those presents (mostly for me!). Playing with my dog, running around in the country. One not-so-great memory of coming downstairs to find my mom crying cause the parents had a fight. Oh, and I remember having a bad dream about a mean talking moon. Or laying in bed with my eyes closed and imaging that was what death was like and freaking myself out. Maybe that was after my first funeral? Or a pet dying. Who knows.

    What I wonder is how much do most people remember from your day to day life after childhood? I remember much more details, ideas of how old I was but it's easy to forget what it felt like to be say a college student on an average day...

    Or is that just the Alzheimer's again? Oi!

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    1. Ha! I know what you mean about the snippets vs. the day to day life stuff. Somehow there's something different about remembering a specific thing that happened than remembering what it was like at a certain time. Sometimes certain smells will trigger a sense of a different time in my life, but it's always very fleeting.

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  12. That is so cool - your memory and it really was something that happened! Those pictures are pretty incredible.

    My first memory was of me dreaming of a man in a tv watching a man in a tv watching a man in a tv... it went on and on... then I woke up in a crib and saw my mother walking in. I KNOW it was real. :)

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    1. Wait... so your first memory is of a dream? That's crazy!

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  13. I'm not sure what my earliest memory is. I do remember at one point realizing that some things I remembered from pictures I no longer remembered, though I felt like I still remembered them because I remembered the pictures.

    I guess I do remember some things from when I was four. I went to Head Start, which I thought was a special program for smart people until I read in college that it was a special program for disadvantaged children. I wasn't disadvantaged, but my dad was in the Air Force and my mom was a stay-at-home mom, so our income was crazy low.

    Anyway, I remember two projects we did there. For one, we stood on a piece of paper and our teacher traced our feet which we colored in to be butterfly wings.

    For the other one, there were candles on the table and we would hold crayons over them until the crayons were about to drip and then drip them on our papers. It seems impossible that they had a bunch of four-year-olds interacting with open flames, but it's true!

    So I guess that shows how I'm an artist now. Not! Actually, I did always want to be a teacher, because teachers gave us cool things to do, so maybe that really is part of my character. (And these days I still find ways to teach people cool things I just learned.)

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    1. I have very murky memories of a Montessori pre-school that I attended. I remember playing with sand on these tables that were just the right height for a standing 3-4 year old.

      But I have very clear memories of my summers at YMCA Day camp when I was a bit older. We routinely played and swam in the creeks and rivers, had archery classes with real bows & arrows, and were often left unsupervised to roam the abandoned army post where the camp was held. It sorta blows my mind to think of that - they'd toss you in jail if you let a kid do those things these days!

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  14. My earliest memory is falling on my face on the steps outside. My parents say I had just turned two when it happened. It's actually the only thing I remember from before my sister was born (I'm two and a half years older than her.) I don't remember a lot of the details, just my face hitting, hurting, and being really messed up. My parents said it was pretty bad; they were afraid my face was going to be scarred. And my grandfather immediately started rebuilding the steps and deck as soon as he found out and saw my face.

    I don't know if that's why, but I hate stairs now. I think it actually borders on an irrational fear. I cling to the rail, go really slow, and don't really like for anyone to be behind me on them. (I have a vague idea that someone was behind me when I fell as a little kid, so I think that explains that part at least.) If I do have to go down stairs with a group of people (like at work or something), I try to position myself directly in front of whoever I trust most.

    And in reading over this, I realize I sound really messed up!

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    1. Wow... now that's an intense first memory. I think I'd be afraid of stairs too if I had something like that lurking in my sub-conscious!

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