Memories

Today, I’m supposed to tell everyone about my earliest memory. Only, that’s not easy. I know I have snippets of memories from different events. If I played them back for people, I’m sure my parents would tell me that I’m remembered things from several different parts of my life as one event. I have always been told that I have a very good memory and I still think this holds true, but am unsure how to proceed with this little challenge.

How about this? I remember dancing in tutus with my mom before I turned two. What my mom has since told me is that we were listening to classical music. She asked if the song was Vivaldi, and I responded, “No, Four Seasons.” So, we were both right. Child Prodigy.

I remember spinning in circles pretending I was Mary Poppins while listening to “500 Miles” by The Proclaimers when I was 3. I remember cutting my own hair and why I did it when I was four. I remember my brother’s funeral when I was four and what seemed like hundreds of giant people in our house for the reception. I remember watching Speed Racer with my uncle in my parents’ room to get away from the crowd. I also remember playing harmonica at the dinner table shortly after my brother died, but singing the blues for him. That moment was inspired by Uncle Joey on Full House (you all remember the moment).

I remember playing “4 Little Monkeys Jumping On The Bed” with my parents and wrestling my dad. He would win and sing “We Are The Champions” but changed it to his own words. “I am the champion” was his way. I still hear it in my head. I remember having a “snowball” fight in my backyard for one of my birthdays with flowers from a snowball bush because it didn’t snow in Woodland. I remember Erin and I singing for our audiences of my parents and my Granny quite often. I remember putting on Pocahontas plays for the cul-de-sac after building forts in the garage. I was always Meiko. And our neighbors were very patient and respectful.

It’s good to cultivate memories. To not have just one, defining memory from the beginning makes me realize that every memory I have of growing up was important and special to me. I paid attention to detail and as someone who is older, I can see how incredible and crisp these thoughts are still held within my mind. I am thankful for the ability to remember things this way, even if it is my downfall like my mother says.

Advertisements

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s