Earliest Memory

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Prompt: What Is Your Earliest Memory

Today is day three of the WordPress #bloganuary challenge.

Hard Drive

The moment that is truly our own -the very first thing we remember! It is easy to replace that memory with voyages into vintage albums or eavesdropping on a conversation about us being told by an elder. We see the time-faded image and think for just a split second about how we remember that moment. Beneath our fingertips are images that clearly show our existence but we shake the blank thoughts as we reach for the corner of the dated photo album to see what lies in the past. We listen intently to those old tales of what we looked like, sounded like, acted like, or accomplished. The tales grow as each year passes and voids are replaced with something new that peaks our interest.

Those are times, photos, and people I cling to but it’s not mine! It’s not the very first moment of my young life I remember.

Waiting for a fresh batch of homemade ice cream from the White Mountain Freezer.
Processing RAM

I do not remember the ride and I can not recall who drove but I remember gathering my belongings in my little arms and dropping a few of the items when exiting the car. I was four years old and headed for 4K at Huntington Christian Academy. One of the items I dropped was the short, dull, little chrome scissors still attached to the flat cardboard packaging. Struggling with the items in my arms I freed my right hand and scooped up the thin package. I quickly placed the package between my upper and lower teeth, bit down, and headed for the door.

Scooting right along, full of excitement, a voice rang out -“Stop Running, Stop Running With Those Scissors In Your Mouth.”

That was it -my very own first memory.

There would be several to follow as my hard drive was just starting to spin and the RAM was free of clutter.

Fisher Priced Out

Recycle Bin

I wonder at times why it was that moment I remember -what was so special about it. The memories that are stored from that place are countless. From 4k through 6th grade, HCA is where I was taught the three R’s, catechism, and what not to do at recess.

While many of those memories survived and are sometimes found deep in the hard drive, the recycle bin has been emptied and I simply can not remember certain aspects when visiting.

The recycle bin is emptied out every so often -I suppose to retain the learning, loving, fun, and sad echoes that reverb within us.

Images shared today on this post are ©Ted Crace and used with his permission. These are his images and his memories of his boy who today remembers the great life he provided me.

Jamb Session
Bed Time

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