The earliest memory I have is quite distinct in my mind, but I will tell you something interesting about it near the end.
I remember the early autumn air as I arrived by car, my very, very early days when I finished attending nursery school and had started going to thriftwood school, in my first year as a 5 year old.
We tended to have a 15 minute playground/general break from classes and we’d have around 4 classes each day (not including lunch, which was 45 minutes), and the afternoon breeze was calm initially as we had our playbreak.
I think I was on the outskirts of the playground where the teachers tended to observe and make sure everything was alright. After some time one of the teachers on break came out, not outwardly startled but definitely worried looking, and began whispering about planes and towers, I was interested if only for the fact the teachers never tended to be this worried. I pretended to not hear them as I played about with something else nearby.
I was – even if slightly macabre sounding – interested and wanted to see, but we didn’t have any television sets that were wired up properly for that, and with a lack of a lead, I got bored and went over to play tag with friends instead.
The interesting thing about this whole situation and ordeal is that I was intensely sure that it had happened, but when 9/11 happened, I was in nursery school. Not the beginning of primary, so I don’t know if I’m blurring memories together.
I cannot think of an earlier memory than that, and whilst I may begin to wander a little from the initial topic of “What is your earliest memory?”, I feel it’s a nice addition to what’s already here.
Reiterating on the fact that I wasn’t actually in one place when a certain event happens I feel tends to show how fragile and easily forgotten certain factors of one’s experiences can be. For instance I can easily tell you I’d eaten a lot of pizza in the past, but I couldn’t point out the specifics like what toppings it had and when exactly I tried a specific topping for the first time.
Do you remember what bus you got to college? I do remember but not the numbers, I just remember a handful of their destination/s.
Memories are perhaps, in a broader and philosophical point, one of the great mysteries of life. Such as how exactly one person remembers certain things. Nobody can remember everything, but at the same time nobody cannot remember nothing. As long as we are conscious, regardless of your situation, you will always be making memories, and at the same time, recalling or even forgetting old ones. We’ll never know exactly why you specifically remember that one time where you banged your head on a low ceiling. Seems inconsequential but yet you remember it. Has anyone had any experiences similar to that?
As well as all of that, I’ve had a mini-realization that memories can be, if you try hard enough, essentially fictional, especially if those around you try hard enough. I feel like I may be rambling now I shall end it here for now.