Day 3119: What is your earliest memory?

Last night, I asked the question “What is your earliest memory?” in my Coping and Healing group. People said they found that very helpful. So, after the group, I asked the same question on Twitter.

My earliest memory is from before I was walking. I was outdoors and my sister was lying on the ground next to me. I remember wondering: “Why is she doing that? She can walk!” That memory stayed with me because my parents were posing us for a photo, and I kept seeing the photo of the two of us in the family album.

Even back then, I was asking questions.

Here are some of my not-so-early memories, captured in photos:

The Daily Bitch is very memorable.

One of my earliest memories of music is of my father listening — on a very old radio — to “Witchcraft” sung by Frank Sinatra.

Now I’m asking you: What is your earliest memory?

Thanks to all who have memories and to those who ask questions and answer them, including YOU!

Categories: group therapy, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

Post navigation

25 thoughts on “Day 3119: What is your earliest memory?

  1. Thanks for sharing your earliest memory. But why was your sister lying on the ground?
    Mine is a bit more traumatic. My earliest memory is when I leaned back while sitting at one of those wooden bench tables outside & then fell & hit my head. I remember crying lol I might have gotten stitches but can’t remember that part. Probably for the best.

    • A lot of people’s earliest memories were of extreme emotions, so you are not alone! My sister was lying on the ground because my father was posing us for a photo — and seeing the photo kept the memory with me. Sorry I wasn’t clear about that in the post!

  2. I was 2 in 1944 when we moved into what was to be our home for the next 16 years. Mum carried me into what was to be my bedroom and picked something off the mantelpiece. She told me it was shrapnel.

  3. I remember rolling down the apartment stairs where we lived in the city, Ann, and my mother and aunt getting very upset. I do not remember going to the hospital or doctor, so I must not have gotten hurt.

  4. Sitting in the garden, eating soil. I was 23 at the time (not really!)

  5. Debbie T

    My earliest memory is my 4th birthday party, when my parents took me and several friends for a ride on a local train from our Philadelphia suburb into downtown, where we stared up at buildings for awhile and then trained back home. I remember the train rides, and though I don’t remember the city part, I have a photo that commemorates it. I’ve always thought that was a clever idea for a party. I’ve only recently realized that it was also a good party-handling solution for my very pregnant mother, who gave birth to my sister just a few weeks later. (My next early memory is my sister being brought home from the hospital.)

  6. My earliest memory was of pleasing textures and unpleasing ones, pleasing sounds vs. unpleasant ones; although there is no certain way of knowing exactly because of the “unconscious” factor which works throughout life’s cycle, and in my case NEW memories emerge constantly. What seems to trigger them are textures, light, sound, even smell. You’re an extraordinary therapist Ann, asking all these great questions, and at least I got to know you and Harley through this blog.

  7. In my earliest memory I’m about 3 years old. I’m waking up with a white sheet over my face and restraints on my hands. I hear my mother’s voice and a doctor talking to her. They’re doing something to my forehead. It hurts. Then they put adhesive bandaids across my entire forehead. I wake up. I’m in a hospital, and everyone is telling me to be brave. I’m scared.

    What I didn’t know: I fell from a top bunk during the night in a summer camp cabin. I hit my forehead on a rock that was holding the door open for fresh air, and was knocked out. My mother was nearby, heard the thud, and came running. I still have the scar on my face. Medical expertise back then wasn’t what it is today. And no, I didn’t feel brave at all. I was terrified.

    What a great question. Thanks so much. It’s good to be back here, dealing with your questions! 🙂

  8. harley would like to know how long it is until dinner will be served? I’ve had that question from time to time. my earliest memory. is one from a crib adventure believe it or not. when I took a psych class in college this question was asked of each of us. I blurted mine out and explained that at the end of my memory, my mother was angry and yelled at me. I never understood why. he told me to ask her. imagine my surprise when she gave me a very different perspective and I understood.

  9. puella33

    Playing with my sister in the mini -pool. I got out and waked toward the pink roses along the fence. I was so fascinated by the color. My grandfather ran after worrying that I would get pricked by the thorns. … little did i know that life is filled with them..

  10. I have several early memories of a house my family lived in until I was four and it’s hard to distinguish which was the earliest. I even remember a strange dream from that time about being locked out of the house while it was dark, not because it was night but because the sun had been covered up. Maybe that’s why I’ve never forgotten this exchange from Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead:
    Guildenstern: What’s the first thing you remember?
    Rosencrantz: [thinks] No, it’s no good. It was a long time ago.
    Guildenstern: No, you don’t take my meaning. What’s the first thing you remember after all the things you’ve forgotten?
    Rosencrantz: Oh, I see… I’ve forgotten the question.

  11. I don’t really remember anything very specific until I was two and my brother was born. I don’t remember him coming home from the hospital, but soon thereafter, and I remember being conflicted between love and jealousy. I think that pretty much sums up our lifelong relationship. LOL!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: