Open Thread Update: Your Earliest Memories!

Last time we asked readers for their earliest memories.  There were so many heartfelt, innocent – and sometimes dramatic – events that made their mark on you.

Some were glimpses of daily life, with sweet vignettes:

I have a misty memory of being in a baby carriage, being pushed down our Brooklyn street by my mother, and feeling gentle rain dotting my face. I must have been about 2 years old, and I remember seeing the gray sky, enjoying the rain, and trying to catch a few drops on my tongue. To me it was a beautiful, enjoyable moment. This was back in 1952.

-Rose Marie W.

My earliest memory was being placed in a car seat by my Father very early in the morning and being driven to a local bakery where he purchased fresh baked pastries for breakfast that morning. He drove a green 1953 Mercury Station Wagon. I remember the dark green color and faux wood paneling .

-Donato N.

‘seeing the Ohio River flood into Parkersburg, West Virginia. I remember seeing a small boat being rowed out from a garage into the street.’

Earliest Times

…standing in a crib babbling, reaching towards the sunlight on a flowered linoleum floor. I saw a little boy and dog running around outside an open door. My noise alerted a woman to come to the crib and lift me out. I pointed to the boy outside. My mom carried me to the (back) door and sat on the top step with me on her lap. Later I found out I was at our house in Savannah, Georgia. The boy was my brother with dog Rowdy in 1941. I was 6 or 7 months old.

Cleta B. is a close second, as she recalls being carried as an infant by her dad to the babysitter, and adds this humdinger as well:

A more formed memory was insisting my parents hold my imaginary friend’s hand too when we crossed the street. I still see her clearly and remember her name.

Reader Keith N. still holds on to a sweet childhood memory…literally!

 I was about 5 when an aunt gave me a teddy bear she had just made.
I called it Bimbo after a popular song of the time was always playing
on the radio. I still have Bimbo, although a bit moth eaten and bedraggled these days.

YOUR TURN

There’s still time to add your earliest memory in the comments – and Cleta, please tell us the name of your imaginary friend (any others with imaginary friends, please share!). We’d also love a pic of Bimbo, Keith!

If you missed it, here’s the original column:

Most of my very early memories are a kaleidoscope of fleeting images, around when I was two: a sundress I really liked because it had a red bodice with sweetheart straps and a ruffled skirt with bright polka dots.  (I still like sweetheart straps!) A family photo with me sitting on a big chair holding a big doll by the hair (I wondered why the Big People told me to hold it).  My brother stood next to me because they said, “You’re the big brother!” (It’s hysterical to see his idea of what a “Big Brother” looks like.)  Hammering pegs into a little peg board. That sort of thing.

A Birthday Memory

My first distinct, complete memory was on my third birthday. Mom put me in a party dress with a scratchy crinoline slip.  A lot of relatives were there, especially my little cousins.  Mom took out the special birthday cake platter that turned around and around while it played “Happy Birthday.” The candles were lit, the magic moment had come, I stood up in my chair ready to make a wish and blow…..

….and my cousin Re-Re blew out my candles.

There was a fraction of a nanosecond of stunned silence.  But only a nanosecond.  I didn’t cry.  Instead, with the instinct and speed of a jungle cat, I slapped her in the face so fast my hand was a blur.  If I was a second or two faster I would have slapped her before she blew out my candles.

The Blowback

I thought I was justified, based on my membership since birth of the “Spare the Rod” school of childcare (Mom’s right hand was a stinger). Then Re-Re began crying and the Big People all talked at once.  Mom was mortified and wanted me to apologize, which confused me since I was playing by her rules. I stood my ground and refused to say I was sorry. I wasn’t, and I wouldn’t apologize.  Re-Re broke the most sacred rule of childhood: never ever steal someone else’s birthday wish.

To break the impasse, Aunt Bea told her daughter to stop crying because it served her right (in the “Spare the Rod” Club Aunt Bea was president).  They relit the candles and I had my wish. I don’t remember my wish, but I sure remember that incident: it was my first, earliest complete memory

I started aging with attitude young, I guess.

YOUR TURN

But that’s me.  What your earliest complete memory? Share your story in the comments!!

Virge Randall is Senior Planet’s Managing Editor. She is also a freelance culture reporter who seeks out hidden gems and unsung (or undersung) treasures for Straus Newspapers; her blog “Don’t Get Me Started” puts a quirky new spin on Old School New York City. Send  Open Thread suggestions to editor@seniorplanet.org.

Photo – Marizza – Getty Images