It’s funny, I often am teased because I have such a good memory, but when it comes to early memories, I just can’t remember my early early childhood that clearly. I have pictures and feelings and smells in my mind, but nothing absolutely concrete.
I remember always looking up to my big sister and wanting to do everything that she did. My mom said I used to pull myself up on the window seal and watch for my sister to walk home from school. I would point and shout, “Ma-hee! Ma-hee!”
I remember my Mom dressing my sister and I alike even though we are almost 6 years a part in age. My sister hated it, but I loved it.
I remember when my little brother was born when I was in kindergarten and going to the hospital and standing on my tippy toes so I could see him through the nursery window. I remember my Mom having to have a hernia operation when he was 11 months old, and he missed my Mom so much he refused to eat. My sister put on her bathrobe hoping he would smell her smell and get over his hunger strike. I really liked having a baby to play with despite my jealously of losing my place as the youngest.
I remember my paternal grandparents coming to visit before my brother was born. It was so exciting because they lived in a far away place called Ohio at the time. The truly cool thing about this picture is my Aunt Laura sent me a CD with an audio recording my grandparents made from this trip. It was so wonderful to hear my Grandma’s voice (I haven’t heard it since 1998), my mother’s voice, and to hear me and my sisters as little girls.
One of my earliest memories is going to my paternal grandparent’s house for Christmas when I was about four (before they moved to Florida permanently) and waking up scared in the middle of the night because I was in a strange place. This picture was taken about 8 years before I was born.
I was about 2 when my maternal grandparents retired and moved back to Utah from Boston. I remember the excitement of going to Poppy and Nana’s house and how they talked funny with their weird Bostonian accents. Some of my earliest memories are of laying on the bed or sitting on the floor of their spare bedroom and listening to my Poppy play the piano.
A lot of my earliest memories are from spending time with my parents and my sister. My mom constantly singing or typing so fast on her typewriter it sounded like a machine gun. My dad watching sports. And growing up next to a mountain, I remember, lots and lots of snow.
That’s all for now. Memories can be so bittersweet.