What is your earliest memory?

by doodle-v 40 Replies latest jw friends

  • doodle-v
    doodle-v

    I can remember drinking out of a bottle. And I remember when I was 2 1/2 my mom carrying me around on her hip at the assembly hall in Puyallup WA.

    How far back in your life can you remember? What is your earliest memory?

    -Doodle-V

  • StinkyPantz
    StinkyPantz

    You don't want to know

  • Mac
    Mac

    I remember when rock was young...

    me and Suzy had so much fun...

    mc

  • doodle-v
    doodle-v
    You don't want to know

    ((SP)) I'm sorry -Doodle-V

  • FlyingHighNow
    FlyingHighNow

    I remember being a baby. I was in the nursery at church. A lady came over to pick me up. She said my name and that is the only word thought I had.I understood I was Heather. She lovingly carried me to the children's church service. I was very little and fit nicely on her lap. I was in awe of the huge surroundings. Everywhere I looked I felt wonder and magic. I listened to the kids sing and so on. I felt very special and very loved. There was no fear and there were no negative feelings at all. I didn't really have any word thoughts. I felt my thoughts. My thoughts were more of observations and feelings than of words and concrete ideas. I felt pure warmth and perfect security.

    If you ever wonder what your baby is thinking, they feel,see and hear rather than think in words.

  • doodle-v
    doodle-v
    If you ever wonder what your baby is thinking, they feel,see and hear rather than think in words.

    That is so cool

  • FlyingHighNow
    FlyingHighNow
    That is so cool

    Isn't it? It's one of the most precious things I have: that memory.

  • Odrade
    Odrade

    great big green grasshopper on our back sliding glass door. My daddy holding me showing me the grasshopper. It was almost as big as his finger.

    O

  • Lady Lee
    Lady Lee

    Hi doodle - first memory eh? Well a few years ago I took an creative writing course and we had to write the first chapter in our biography. This is the beginning of mine. I was 4 years old


    The small room was cold and damp. It smelled dank and the bare light suspended from the ceiling did little to brighten the sparse contents. I felt the stab of the needle as it penetrated my young skin and I started to cry quietly. Already, at the tender age of four, I had learned not to make too much noise for fear that I might disturb my father. The room seemed very cold and my body felt hot. "Please, Mommy, make me feel better," my small voice wavered. My mother placed a cool hand on my burning forehead as she looked questioningly at the doctor. He had by this time put away his equipment. Straightening himself, he turned to my mother. "That should make her feel better in a few minutes. You really should try to find another place to live. This basement is much too damp and the insects are not healthy to have around the little ones," Their voices faded away as they left the room.

    This is my first memory. I was told later, that I had been very sick. There were many times in the coming years, that I wished that this had been my one and only memory. Nothing in my tiny external world would prepare me for the future that I would endure.


  • Mac
    Mac

    ...actually it was when I was in the hospital at the age of three...I was not eating and becoming malnourished.....

    not for lack of food, just lack of eating...I've been known to be stubborn.

    When left alone in my room they had been forced to put a net over my crib to keep me contained...I kept climbing out and wandered the halls inquiring as to the whereabouts of my father. When they asked who he was I would always reply..."Awwwwww...you can find him...he drives the blue car!" I still remember that net over the bed and the frustration it wrought as I tried to escape...... I also remember the oversized hedge clippers that the barber used on me during my first haircut after positioning me 100 feet above the floor on some strange elevated abomination of of a chair that must have been the brainchild of the Marquis DeSade himself ... But, what the hell...I got gum afterward...neato torpedo!!! (Another story for another time)

    * Back to the hospital (I'm easily distracted) ....upon my discharge my dad and I walked past a small fella in the hall who had ingested Ajax or bleach or some other thing that whitens and brightens and kills when not taken according to direction. I commented that he had no toy, as I clutched the cool blue plastic race car my dad had brought me. My dad asked me if there was anything I could do about that? I thought for a while trying to sidestep the inevitable path I was being led down. (Did I mention it was a really cool car?) Yeah..I gave it to him..and that feeling still remains with me to this day..thanks DAD!!!

    mac

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