First Memories

[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

I was reading Loren Eiseley last night Excavation of a Life, the last book he wrote. It was a look back on his life before he died, in it he was asked what his first public memory was. He answered a jail break, the same year as the Titanic sinking...I want to know what your first memory is..it does not have to be a public one, just the first that you remember.


Mine is kind of like a dream, I don't remember clear details. I was four years old and I was throwing beer cans out the back of my dad's aluminum boat as we were fishing. I remember he was mad because he did not see me doing it and had to row back and pick them all up...I remember the water very well, it was green and flat calm and the Rainier can's floating along behind us like a connect the dots childrens drawing.
I'm lucky I remember at all, that was the same day he decided that I needed to learn to swim (after he was drunk) and tossed me in. I don't remember that at all, I sunk to the bottom and was dead for four minutes...my mother revived me. She left him two weeks later.
Funny, I don't remember it being tramatic...I thought it was funny to toss the cans out and that's what I remember...laughing. I developed a phobia of water however...I forced myself to learn to swim when I was twenty. I still almost have panic attacks when I swim in lakes.

Ok, your turn.

 

[Nostalgy_Prince]

Mine was not as dramatic:

Three years old, I remember being seated in a room, reading a cartoon album, green cover (it was a Spirou album for those of you who know them) and I remember seeing a tall and dark shape in the door : the surgeon that was to operate on me, a simple appendicitis.

Not a great adventure. The funny thing about that is that I wasn't hurting at all, just not eating double the normal portions like was my habit. That's what prompted my mother to take me to the hospital.

(side note: yeah. I was reading at 3 )

 

[Maria2394]

My earliest memory was of being in a pretty cage with my grandfather. I didnt know what or where that "cage" was until I was in my thirties though.
I told my mom, she didnt know, my grandmother did, she told me..

My grandfather was the county sheriff until the day he died in 1966 and he used to take me with him everywhere he went, in his sheriff's car. I would ridein the middle of the front seat and was in charge of the radio. I remembver that clearly..

When he would take me to the court house, there was an old cage elevator and we would ride in that. I still remember the old wrought iron designs and the rickety sounds it made. I was about 2 1/2.

Papa died when i was almost 4, and they didnt tell me anything except that he just went away... people, please dont lie to your kids about death, it will screw them up and make them feel abandoned especially if they are too young to understand the went away part is a metaphor..kids are smarter than most people realize, they have an innate understanding of death, trust me


thanks for the memories, Sabina



maria

 

[Maria2394]

Mine was not as dramatic:



(side note: yeah. I was reading at 3 )

I was too!! and the first word I ever wrote in "cursive" was Moses

my granny was SO proud!!

 

[WickedEve]

One early memory is being on the beach in FL and watching Apollo 12 launch. It was launched in Nov '69
And there is the wake in my Nanny Lynn's house. Her second husband was, um, on display in the living room.
But I'm pretty sure my first memory is of a toilet. I remember watching the water swirling as it was flushed.

 

[Nostalgy_Prince]

I was too!! and the first word I ever wrote in "cursive" was Moses

my granny was SO proud!!

That's great! I think mine was.... mm..... can't remember.. darn memory

 

[flyguy69]

A confining warmth. Swimming, swimming, swimming.... Who pulled the plug? Water draining away, oh no, come back! Come back! I'm bustin' outta this joint. Elbows, knees, thrashing, pushing pushing pushing! My God it's tight in here! I want out. I want out!

Oh, the lights! The bright lights! And it's so cold! I'm wet and shivering! Put me down, you glove-handed giant ape!

Oh yes, this I know: I know this voice, I know this flesh. Leave me here, in this soft, warm cradle of skin.

I remember, but I don't know what it means....

 

[Maria2394]

ya big tease!!

A confining warmth. Swimming, swimming, swimming.... Who pulled the plug? Water draining away, oh no, come back! Come back! I'm bustin' outta this joint. Elbows, knees, thrashing, pushing pushing pushing! My God it's tight in here! I want out. I want out!

Oh, the lights! The bright lights! And it's so cold! I'm wet and shivering! Put me down, you glove-handed giant ape!

Oh yes, this I know: I know this voice, I know this flesh. Leave me here, in this soft, warm cradle of skin.

I remember, but I don't know what it means....

oh hell, flyguy, you know what that means!!

wouldnt this be a good challenge subject? I might even be able to make myself write this one..

I have a birth dream, its about walking barefoot through a tunnel and coming out emerged in water and the swimming through to light and emerging on a warm shore. I guess I was dreaming the egg traveling through the fallopian tubes, lol


m

 

[flyguy69]

oh hell, flyguy, you know what that means!!

wouldnt this be a good challenge subject? I might even be able to make myself write this one..

I have a birth dream, its about walking barefoot through a tunnel and coming out emerged in water and the swimming through to light and emerging on a warm shore. I guess I was dreaming the egg traveling through the fallopian tubes, lol


m

I wondered what your av was.

 

[annaswirls]

interesting topic, Sabina, thanks for the idea!

I feel like I remember picking my mom up from the hospital after she had my baby brother-- running down the hall, kissing him on the head, feeling guilty that I was sad missing my mom while she was in the hospital, but I was only 2 and I might just be remembering the story not the experience.

My first clear as day memories are those of my first love, Robbie, in kindergarden. We would hide in the woods and he taught me to touch tongues... I remember it like it was yesterday, writing I love Robbie in red crayon all over my grandmom's walls after we tore off her old wallpaper. It is still under there, my proclamations of love and my married name Mrs. Jennifer Jones all over the warped plaster.

His mom took him out of public school and sent him to Catholic school, and I remember crying because I would miss him, but mostly crying because he would have to wear a uniform, the thought of my Robbie, the rebel, the independent thinker having to wear a little green tie and jacket tore me apart. I remember the emotion so clearly.

 

[Sara Crewe]

Funny how someone else's memory can trigger one of your own.

One of my earliest memories was at a pool for swimming lessons. It was before the time where parents came into the pool with little ones and I remember sitting on the edge because I was too short even to stand in the shallow end. I was probably three. No one in my class noticed that I slipped off the side of the pool and end up standing on the bottom of the pool. I kind of jackknifed when I went in so I ended up away from the side. I totally remember waiting a second and then realizing no one was going to save me. I walked on the bottom of the pool over to the side, reached up and pulled myself out. I can still see the tile on the side of the pool wall as I walked toward it with my eyes wide open.

I love the water but I have this weird thing about jumping in...I don't like that feeling of not being able to control where I am in the water and it results in a couple of seconds of panic. Even though I have snorkeled, swam in distance races and trained as a lifeguard, I get freaked when I have to jump in the water and have to talk myself out of it and then I am okay. I never made the connection before but maybe it stems from falling in the pool as a kid.

 

[Recidiva]

I remember looking up at a little hand, and thinking "Oh shit, not again."

Thus began the reincarnation idea.

Of course it was a long time until I was able to even cross the street without help, so it was kinda humbling.

 

[Maria2394]

I wondered what your av was.

the AV you refer to is a cluster of baby coleus

 

[My Erotic Trail]

I was reading Loren Eiseley last night Excavation of a Life, the last book he wrote. It was a look back on his life before he died, in it he was asked what his first public memory was. He answered a jail break, the same year as the Titanic sinking...I want to know what your first memory is..it does not have to be a public one, just the first that you remember.


Mine is kind of like a dream, I don't remember clear details. I was four years old and I was throwing beer cans out the back of my dad's aluminum boat as we were fishing. I remember he was mad because he did not see me doing it and had to row back and pick them all up...I remember the water very well, it was green and flat calm and the Rainier can's floating along behind us like a connect the dots childrens drawing.
I'm lucky I remember at all, that was the same day he decided that I needed to learn to swim (after he was drunk) and tossed me in. I don't remember that at all, I sunk to the bottom and was dead for four minutes...my mother revived me. She left him two weeks later.
Funny, I don't remember it being tramatic...I thought it was funny to toss the cans out and that's what I remember...laughing. I developed a phobia of water however...I forced myself to learn to swim when I was twenty. I still almost have panic attacks when I swim in lakes.

Ok, your turn.

I have some snap shot memories of here and there but the most profound and earliest memory I have is when my cartoon show was interupted by the news. To make me feel better about not being able to watch Felix the Cat, my mother made M&M chocolate chip cookies. There I was watching the news on all the channels eating cookies the day JFK was shot.

 

[sandspike]

I think......

a grand something or another died. Green Pontiac, Buster Brown brown
and whites. It was hot. There was a church far away (probably 20 miles).
I think my mother cried more than my father. My first good memory was
named Gail. Ist grade, she taught me how to kiss. I think she was in
another school, maybe a freshmen or soph. I love older women and they
are getting hard to find..... The funeral was in Pamlico county. It was my
mothers sister. Honestly, I just thought about that. thank you.

 

[Tzara]

My earliest memories are chronologically confused. Did this happen before this? I can't usually tell. But even after all these years, there are some memories, however trivial, that come up like too many jellybeans chased by ipecac. This is one.

I am in the bathroom. Sitting, probably, on the closed toilet. My mother is lecturing me about cleanliness.

Your fingers are always dirty. Your nails are always dirty. Why can't you keep your nails clean?

Richard has such clean nails.

Richard is her friend's son. He is a year older than me. I look up to him.

Why can't you keep your nails clean like Richard?

I don't know why I can't. I wash them. I wash them as she says, but the fingers are still brown with earth. I can't get at the dirt. I rub my skin but it stays brown.

This bothers me. Even now it bothers me. I don't like to work on things that get my hands dirty. Don't like to garden.

Car grease is worst. Won't work on a car.

My friend Richard grew up to be a drug addict. He hung himself before he turned thirty.

I still worry about dirt under my nails.

 

[Sara Crewe]

My earliest memories are chronologically confused. Did this happen before this? I can't usually tell. But even after all these years, there are some memories, however trivial, that come up like too many jellybeans chased by ipecac. This is one.

I am in the bathroom sitting, probably, on the closed toilet. My mother is lecturing me about cleanliness.

Your fingers are always dirty. Your nails are always dirty. Why can't you keep your nails clean?

Richard has such clean nails.

Richard is her friend's son. He is a year older than me. I look up to him.

Why can't you keep your nails clean like Richard?

I don't don't why I can't. I wash them. I wash them as she says, but the fingers are still brown with earth. I can't get at the dirt. I rub my skin but it stays brown.

This bothers me. Even now it bothers me. I don't like to work on things that get my hands dirty. Don't like to garden. Car grease is worst. Won't work on a car.

My friend Richard grew up to be a drug addict. He hung himself before he turned thirty.

I still worry about dirt under my nails.

My Richard's name was Lisa. I once had a dream that she leaned into the oven and I closed the door on her and wouldn't let her out. I played the visual over and over again in my head like a bad porno movie ...her legs sticking out of the oven door like the wicked witch under the house in Wizard of Oz. I dont think I stole her shoes though in the dream.

It's a tad frightening that today I love to cook and bake.

 

[Tzara]

My Richard's name was Lisa. I once had a dream that she leaned into the oven and I closed the door on her and wouldn't let her out. I played the visual over and over again in my head like a bad porno movie ...her legs sticking out of the oven door like the wicked witch under the house in Wizard of Oz. I dont think I stole her shoes though in the dream.

It's a tad frightening that today I love to cook and bake.

You sure her name wasn't Sylvia?

I didn't resent Richard, though. I loved Richard. He seemed more clever, more knowledgable, more cool than me. I was mad at my mother. Still am, apparently, because I do still carry this around with me (obviously dredged this insignificant little memory up for this thread).

Would my mother remember this? Probably not. Nor was she over-critical while I was growing up. Just one of those weird things that psychiatrists delight in dragging out of people whose main problem is that they are stressed out by work. See? It was your mother all the time!

I let my wife change the oil, all the same.

 

[Sara Crewe]

You sure her name wasn't Sylvia?

I didn't resent Richard, though...

She was definitely not a poet.

That's because you are much nicer than I am. I was pissed with them both, psycho-bitch that I am.


Oh, btw, I would make a horrible debate teacher because I am always right. And I don't even have Avs turned on so it might be a while before I put any effort into posting one. Although, after Anna's comment about boobies I did look for pics of blue-footed boobies but couldn't find any free ones.

 

[champagne1982]

shorts on pudgy legs, pink
drying flatware from the sink
my best friend Lizzy's eyes on fire
measels will do that.

reading Bambi by Felix Salten
no more than 4 at the time
red sandals up in the air
and my mom smiling all the while

 

[clutching_calliope]

Head trauma

.....

 

[eagleyez]

My first memory traces back to when I was about 3. My father had a company car parked out front, a Dodge dart with the transmission to the left of the steering wheel, one of those push button models that went from Park thru to drive.

Everyone was inside but me, and I got in the car, pretending to drive. Something moved me to push the button for neutral, and, as the parking brake was not engaged, the car started to roll forward, at a pretty good clip, as we lived on a hill.

Much to my shock and horror, I wooshed away, straining to see over the steering wheel. I sailed thru a 4 way intersection and started up the hill on the other side, carreening past parked cars and thoroughly horrified-mindful that I was in deep shit now.

Miraculously, I rolled back through the same intersection and came to stop, dead in the water, smack dab in the middle of the intersection, cars blaring their horns and going around me.

Needless to say, my next vision if of my father, running at full tilt, jumping into the car and cranking it. I was given a less than gentle talking to and never pulled that stunt again.

So much for luck.

 

[Rybka]

I have three from about the same time, but I am not sure which is earliest. I think the first is being thrown off an old farm horse at my uncles farm when a military plane flew over (planes were somewhat unusual then) and startled it.
The second is sitting on the front porch steps and watching the sky expecting to see my recently passed grandfather rising up to heaven, and the third is going up on an open-air stage downtown and ringing a "liberty bond" bell because my mother, and aunt, and grandmother had saved enough money to purchase a war bond.
My next memory is when my father came home on leave and I went fishing for the first time ~ But that is a story in itself!

 

[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

~

thank you all for the memories... :rose

 

[BooMerengue]

I know I have other, earlier memories, but they're hazy, while this one keeps popping up.

My Mom had just come home from the hospital having had her 7th child. Because she was RHneg, she was pretty sick each time she came home. So we had a sort of Nanny, Maid, Cook named Auntie Bernice that came in to help out. Auntie Bernice decided to fix my very long golden slightly curly hair for school one morning and my clearest memory is of me, a few houses down from mine, hiding behind a tree and crying cuz she had given me 'pickaninny' braids- I think about 20 of them sticking out all over. I was mortified, and more than that- they hurt! Another neighbor happened to see me hiding, came and got me, and in just a few minutes I was on my way to school with one big ponytail, and a little pack of homemade cookies in my bag.