What is your first memory?
My immediate family is going to kill me for this picture! And I hope you will forgive me for all of these old black and whites I've been posting lately. I've been going through my mothers old photos, baby books, graduation pictures, wedding dresses, etc...
My father popped into town a few weeks ago and surprised me with a new scanner and it's wonderful. My other scanner died and went to live in scanner heaven, and I was sad, but now, I'm happy again thanks to a really great Dad. This is a picture of my first memory, only kidding, but, it is a picture of my family caught off guard one morning by a local photographer. My mother was furious because it was so early in the morning she hadn't had time to get us all dressed. Incidentally she will kill me for posting this picture.
Anyway, I thought it would work nicely with this Tuesday's Question which is;
What is your First Memory?
In addition, I wanted to make a few announcements before I quickly answer the 16th Tuesday’s Question! I cannot believe I’ve asked sixteen questions since starting Tuesday’s Question. When I went through my archives last night to make sure I wasn’t duplicating a question I was floored when I saw what number we're on.
Therefore, I decided I need to thank my loyal contributors by doing three things in your honor. First, I’m going to make an honorable mention link list or blogroll for the bloggers who have faithfully participated in Tuesday’s Question since the beginning. Second, I 'm making an ongoing honorable mention list with its very own page, and link to each blog. And last (I have to figure this one out) I’m going to add a suggestions form for suggested questions. I thought that after sixteen weeks we needed a change to keep the party going.
What do you think? I know you can't answer this fragmented question or any other question "live" in real time, but feel free to discuss it in comments with each other and me. Because Tuesday’s Question belongs to all of you who stop by and leave a comment every Tuesday, thereby making the question more fun to answer.
Here Is My First Memory:I was three or four years old:
My brothers ran ahead of me all of the time when we were outside playing. I guess they were trying to lose their "bad" little sister. We lived at the end of a dead end street, with a circular drive at the end, which we referred to as "the circle." "The Circle" was an empty lot with trees and dirt on it, like an island in the middle of a street. One morning, when my mothers back was turned, I followed my brothers out the door and down the street on their way to the circle. I ran behind them as fast as my legs would allow, but the meanies lost me anyway. I remember sitting down on the island dirt and noticing my legs turning red from running, and I wondered why? Then they started stinging and I couldn't understand why or what was hurting me. I began slapping my legs trying to make the stinging stop, and screaming with my eyes so full of tears I couldn't see where I was ... I remember feeling terror, followed by relief, when I felt my mom scoop me in her arms, and carry me to the hose on the side of our house.
Evidently, I sat in an ant bed! I've never known which event was my actual first memory. Was it my brothers running ahead of me, noticing my legs were red, or the ants? However, none of them are particularity good memories, are they? Well, at least my mother realized I followed my brothers and came looking for me. And now years later I put her picture up on my website, that was taken before she'd had her morning coffee. Motherhood is hard.
What is your First Memory?
17 comments:
Oh ann what a lovely picture I like it far better than photo's taken when everybody is dressed up. and how much the boy (your brother?) on the picture looks like your son and a pretty mum you have. Your first memory was a bit scary. Mine too in a different way than. I remember my mum had too drag me over the street to get me too preschool for the first time. I completely refused. The nuns at that school just let me cry for a while sitting outside the playroom on a bench. Than I peeked into the door and thought oh this isn't that bad. Have a great day.
I turned two on June 26, and on July 4, my dad took me to my grandparents to live. I remember him coming around to the side of the truck, opening the door, and sitting me down. I then toddled over to my grandparents who were sitting on a porch swing. I climbed up into their laps and watched my dad pull out the driveway. I don't remember any of the other events of that day, though.
Marja, What a sweet comment, thank you! I like it better than the dressed up pictures as well. Although, I'm not sure how the rest of my family would feel. LOL.
It made me sad to think of you sitting on the playroom bench. I remember having to leave my son in close to the same situation years ago. I sat in the car and cried. I know how hard it must have been on your mum too. I think maybe these scary memories are our first because we were frightened. I was really late posting Tuesday's Question today, so I'm afraid I don't have many other memories to compare them too. I feel so bad, because many of my regular contributors stopped by. I'm afraid they may think I didn't post it today. So I'm glad you saw it posted Marja. You leave the kindest comments. Thank you!
You have a great day as well.
Ann
P.S, I forgot to answer your question about what I meant about a "writer period." I meant that writers "have to" write, hence often write about everything. It's hard to explain or categorize the pull to write. But, I have a feeling you know what I mean. For example, I think of all bloggers as writers, although a lot of them will tell you they're not.
They may not be write fiction , but they love to write. I will be glad to help you anytime with any questions you have about submitting manuscripts or anything with the industry, just ask. That is, if I know it myself. Lol
Ann
I remember being very little, probably around three or four, and my mom and dad (both have passed away) telling me that they could see Santa Claus in the Christmas tree. Everytime I looked he wasn't there. They were tricking me, but I loved it. This continued on for many years. I did the same thing to my son when he was little.
Great question Ann. You really made us think on this one. Have a great day. :)
A big hug to Misty Dawn. That is so sad. :)
Misty, Did you see your Dad much after that? I'm sorry you have such a sad first memory. I was running late with Tuesday's Question today, but so far between the three of us, the first memories are scary. I wonder if first memories are often scary ones? I'm going to look it up. I hope I haven't made you feel bad today. It would really upset me if I did. Thanks for the comment. Two? That is really young for a first memory. My son's Doctor told me one time that intelligent children have earlier memories, because his are also early.
Thanks for contributing Misty. I hope you're glad you did. :)
Sandee, I love your memory. I remember you writing about your
parents before. They sound like such wonderful people. You don't have to reach far to discover. Fruit never falls far from the tree. What a sweet thing to say to your child at Christmas, and what a great Christmas family tradition. I'm happy to see that you came back. It just wouldn't be Tuesday's Question without your comment. I love your comments, and look forward to reading them. I'm thrilled that you liked the question. I hate it when I feel like I've asked a bad one.
Have a great day, my friend, I appreciate you~
Ann
Great stories! I have never sat on an ant hill, and it sounds like this is a good thing.
I faintly remember the day when my real Grandfather (my mother was raised by his brother) gave me a record player. I used it until I was at least 8. Every record I played reminded me of him. It was a very special gift from a special man.
Eric "Speedcat Hollydale"
Hey Eric! Laughing. Yep, evidently I started out dingy. And you know what they say about some things not getting better. LOL I love your comment. Evidently, your Grandfathers loving gesture made a big impression on you. He must have been a special man. Early memories are interesting. Thanks Eric. I hope you're having a fun evening. :)
Ann
What a lovely picture and what a lovely idea to share memories. I was so pleased to meet you in chat last night. I have heard so much about you and now I can see why. I absolutely love it here. I will definitely be visiting as often as I can.
Of course as I am blogging on the road with my hubby my visit time is limited right now. So please forgive me for not being able to get by everyday. And as I was raised in the south also. I am well aware of those horrid ant beds and their awful stings.
You have an absolutely elegant blog,
Jackie
It isn't an ugly picture!!! I can figure which was you, beware, Lol!
Well mine was simple. I was about 3,and Mum was about to bring me out- she left me to take my shoes and wear them. Well, it's not such a difficult job.
However, I steadily (and confidently) slipped my teeny weeny feet into the wrong shoe! Left into right, and right into left.
My mum came to change it for me. Simple but true.
I was also scanning through (no reference to the scaner, lol!) my photos- when I was 4 and in Nursery, my mom took a photo of me pinching a girl's cheeks affectionately, LOL! Almost landed in jail. Just kiding, heh..
I wonder why, was always one of the cutest kids when I was young. SO diferent from now, lol ;p
Jackie, I'm sooo happy you enjoyed your visit, and I'm pleased to meet you as well. It sounds wonderful to be on the road with your husband. How romantic, and how nice to have the time to spend together. I stopped by The Painted Veil and really loved as well. Forgive me Jackie, but I think I called you Shinade in your comments. And you know, I can tell you're a Southerner, by your choice of words. You can hear the Southern charm in your sentence structure. It hadn't occurred to me, that the rest of the world, may not have to deal with ant beds. lol
Very nice to meet you~
Ann
Oddly enough, I was still a baby, about a year old. (maybe a little older.) But I remember it like it was yesterday, as if I was an adult. (So this makes sense, I am adopted) I was living in a foster home, I was in my crib and I can remember a girl, she was very pretty, maybe in her late teens, with dark hair and a soft spoken voice picking me up and holding me like she was never going to let go.
Even as I think about it now as I type, she seemed to have alot love radiating from her and very angelic.
I could never really understand it and and up until I was 17 I kept it to myself. I remember telling my mom about it and I can still rememeber the look on her face and she all she could say was "That was the foster mother's daughter."
To this day I don't know why I remember it, my mom thinks it maybe the first time I felt love, but even at 31 years old, when I think about that one memory, I feel calm and at peace. It's weird, very weird, something I still don't ubderstand and probably never will.
Outing myself as 46 with this memory of nearly 44 years ago. We were in Massachusetts. My grandmother and mother were both crying. I'd never seen such a sight. My older siblings and I were placed in front of the TV to watch some children's show. I don't know what. All the adults were quite distraught. John Kennedy had been assassinated.
Ann that is lovely family photo!
I'm not sure what my earliest memory is... I remember the smell of arrowroots and apple juice in Kindergarten... oh and the smell of wet clay. I remember my mother teaching me to cross the street alone and feeling so grown up. It's hard to pin point an actual first memory though. Great question!
I love these kinds of blog post and this one was enjoyable, even if you did get into a bit of trouble there with the ants.
My brother sat in one once and they got all over his little "thingy!"
Anyway, I wrote about mine once if you care to visit: http://mushysmoochings.blogspot.com/2006/07/learning-to-face-lifes-little-problems.html
Mushy, I would love to read your post on your first memory and will definitely stop by. Thanks for the comment. And your poor brother!
Smile.
Ann
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