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Weirdly enough, I have a distinct memory when I was "young". Young was in my case, 1.5 years old. I met my great grandmother, whom was nearing her death. She k

Weirdly enough, I have a distinct memory when I was "young". Young was in my case, 1.5 years old. I met my great grandmother, whom was nearing her death. She knew that we were making one last visit and that I was coming. I remember meeting her, being in the old 80's hospital room with the upper white and lower green tiles. I remember how frail her hands were, like delicate paper. I remember getting out of my stroller and laying my head on her hand, carefully. I could feel this was my last and only moment with her, and that somehow a continuation or some completion was right then and there. I have other memories that become more 'solid' later. My memories really start around when I was 3 onwards, along when I was able to read. I never was taught... I just knew how to. My mom even still has my first alphabet I wrote down when I was 2.5y old.

ddingus 4y ago
I have a couple! 2 years old and some change: Direction was important to me somehow. I can remember the orientation of every house we've lived in. And it's coarse, like north, west, etc... The very earliest one is of being in my crib, bouncing the little spring that is wound around one of the shafts that hold the crib together. I would lay there and lift it up, and it would bounce. Boing, boing, boing... Lift higher, more bounces. Slamming it down worked too. A related one, a bit later was flicking the little springy door stop and realizing they were the same kind of thing! And that realization is probably why I remember. I can remember my crib, parts of the house, and the porch with little walk leading to the fence and the little gate that could open to the sidewalk, out of our yard, into the world. One day, my parents set me down, opened that gate and walked next door, across the street! And there was this other little kid. A little older than me, his name was "cash" and I had associated "cash" with money, and why would someone name a person like money? I thought about that a lot while we met, and I have a set of photos from that day in my head. The walkway, being set down to walk. The gate opening, or open. Walking up to Cash, my parents on my left, us talking while they talked, and then the best: Cash said, "you want to play downstairs?" I said, "yeah" because I had been downstairs in our house a time or two and people had all manner of interesting stuff in the downstairs! Parts, equipment, things, and all sorts of smells, and the walls are usually not finished, can see stuff we don't always see. We walked in the door, Cash opened the door leading downstairs and flicked a light switch, and the light came on. He said, "Two way switch" and that it just worked when you needed it to. I remember being super impressed! Like that was some high tech our house did not have. Their house was much bigger than ours... I need to cut this short. Bottom line is those people were thieves. They had way more stuff downstairs than I had seen and it solidified in my mind. Tires, radios, stuff.. Years later, age 17'ish, I mentioned all this to my mother, who said they moved after finding out! The people in this discussion saying that memory is about connections are on the right path. The earliest ones I have also have a basis, a connection of sort, a place to be.

ddingus 4y ago

I have a couple! 2 years old and some change: Direction was important to me somehow. I can remember the orientation of every house we've lived in. And it's coarse, like north, west, etc... The very earliest one is of being in my crib, bouncing the little spring that is wound around one of the shafts that hold the crib together. I would lay there and lift it up, and it would bounce. Boing, boing, boing... Lift higher, more bounces. Slamming it down worked too. A related one, a bit later was flicking the little springy door stop and realizing they were the same kind of thing! And that realization is probably why I remember. I can remember my crib, parts of the house, and the porch with little walk leading to the fence and the little gate that could open to the sidewalk, out of our yard, into the world. One day, my parents set me down, opened that gate and walked next door, across the street! And there was this other little kid. A little older than me, his name was "cash" and I had associated "cash" with money, and why would someone name a person like money? I thought about that a lot while we met, and I have a set of photos from that day in my head. The walkway, being set down to walk. The gate opening, or open. Walking up to Cash, my parents on my left, us talking while they talked, and then the best: Cash said, "you want to play downstairs?" I said, "yeah" because I had been downstairs in our house a time or two and people had all manner of interesting stuff in the downstairs! Parts, equipment, things, and all sorts of smells, and the walls are usually not finished, can see stuff we don't always see. We walked in the door, Cash opened the door leading downstairs and flicked a light switch, and the light came on. He said, "Two way switch" and that it just worked when you needed it to. I remember being super impressed! Like that was some high tech our house did not have. Their house was much bigger than ours... I need to cut this short. Bottom line is those people were thieves. They had way more stuff downstairs than I had seen and it solidified in my mind. Tires, radios, stuff.. Years later, age 17'ish, I mentioned all this to my mother, who said they moved after finding out! The people in this discussion saying that memory is about connections are on the right path. The earliest ones I have also have a basis, a connection of sort, a place to be.