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I remember reading that John F Kennedy Jr once said that he couldn't trust if some of his earliest memories, such as playing under his fathers desk in the oval office and saluting at his fathers funeral were his own actual memories or from people constantly telling him about the events and seeing pics and news reels. Sad.
My first historic memory is of John Kennedy being shot and killed, then his funeral. I was three. I remember my mother sitting in front of our black and white television crying during both events. Although I didn't really understand what had happened, I cried. I was upset that my mom was crying.
My first personal memory was my third birthday party. All of the neighborhood was there (all of 20 houses at that time) as well as family.
I had on a chiapas party dress which is a traditional mexican dress that has a very wide skirt with intricate embroidered flowers in bright colors with a matching shawl that my grandmother made. She also embroidered the sombrero. The embroidery made the dress very hot and heavy compared to the usual cotton shirts and shorts I usually wore in the heat of summer but I loved it. I felt like royalty. We had mariachi music. My grandmother cooked traditional mexican dishes and my grandfather grilled hot dogs and hamburgers. I remember the oohhs and aahhs from the all the kids when my grandfather hung the pinata that he made. We couldn't wait to break it open and eat the candy that filled it.
Although my birthday party happened months before Kennedy was killed, I remember it all vividly, while Kennedy's death is more bits and pieces. I rationalize that it's because my birthday was about happiness rather than sadness. But, realistically, it's probably because it was all about me.
My first memories were having my tonsils out at four and the bombing of Pearl Harbor, but I am not sure I really remember them or just remember the stories from hearing them over and over. Oh, I also remember eating a huge chunk of cheese when I was about 3. My parents were having a Christmas tree decorating part and had huge blocks of cheese. I grabbed one and disappeared into another room and sat in the corner eating it until daddy found me. Again, I don't know if I really do remember this or just remember hearing about it.
My first memory is very odd. It was actually a nightmare, which pretty much set the tone for what was to follow
I was in bed as a baby wrapped up, then the blanket was pulled away then, the bed turned into a bathtub, the bathtub drained of water, and then was filled with spiders. I then woke up and fell down the stairs doing forward rolls. My sister was at the bottom and shouted "Mum, Ryan's nose is bleeding."
I was two, or about to turn two at the time. I can't work out exactly what happened, either I had fallen asleep at the top of the stairs, or I had been sleepwalking. It will forever remain an enigma.
I remember elevator in maternity clinic. I was on the cart inside of it. I later asked my mom and she confirmed that clinic had 2 floors and newborns were moved by elevator to the 2nd floor.
No way! Your baby brain is not even fully developed yet to have capacity in lasting memories..
I remember a neighbor boy coming to my grandmother's front door. He was in a little red and white cowboy outfit, and he wanted to give me a little plastic horse. My grandmother was standing at the open door; I was standing with my arm around my grandmother's leg, my head just above her knee level, shyly watching the little boy because I remember that I "liked" that boy...my cheeks felt hot! And I had to have been no more than 2 or 2-1/2 years old because my grandmother was only 5'2" tall!
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