If you wanted to get all philosophical about it, you could say that each of us is a collection of our own memories and that, therefore, our very first memory is the moment we first become “ourselves”.  You could think of your first memory as the exact moment that the person you know as yourself was born.  I’ve invited everyone at MJM Books to tell us about their birthdays: I wonder how much these birthdays reveal about the people we turned out to be…

Erin first remembers her dad pushing her around the house in a cardboard box and making car sounds as he pushed the box along.  She also has early memories of my mom tucking her in at night.

Visual Approximation

 

I share Erin’s automotive origins.  My first memory is of Mike and Matt constructing a sports car for me out of one of my old diaper boxes.  They made more than one, apparently, as there is a picture of me in a cardboard Busch nascar racer, but the one I remember was a Ferrari?  My only clue is that it had pop up headlights, a feature that my brothers delighted in and I pretended to know why it was exciting.

Not a Ferrari... discrediting my hypothesis

Mike’s first memory features a subject a little more… natural.  I’ll let him explain…

“When I was very young (maybe 3 or 4 years old) our family dog was a Great Dane.  As you can imagine Great Dane’s are pretty big; and one thing that goes along with big dogs is big… er… umm… well poop.”

“During the day I would usually play out in the back yard but this could often be difficult as I’d have to dodge the many ‘land mines’ scattered about.” 

“Being the bright young lad I was, I decided that I would mark each pile in the backyard with a small stick to flag its location.  That way, when my dad came home from work all I had to do was show him the ‘flags’ in the  yard so he could clean up.”    

Problem Solved.

“In retrospect I suppose I could have probably picked up the ‘waste’ myself but then again what young boy can resist the urge to make a game out of something as cool as giant piles of dog poop?!”

Sara’s first memory also features some family pets, but it seems to be quite a bit more idyllic…

“I remember sloshing around under a shady tree in a tiny, blue plastic kiddie pool with my younger sister in my grandparent’s backyard. I smelled the charred, spicy aroma of hot dogs while my grandpa grilled and listened to my grandma laugh while her and my parents talked. My grandparents’ two lhasa apsos, Toby and Muffin, sniffed around the yard, occasionally poking their wet noses into the pool to say ‘hello’.”

Matt also remembers water… too much water. Matt’s traumatic “birthday” memory involves learning how to swim.  

“I was so frustrated at Mom and Dad, they would stand three feet apart in the pool and one would let me go and the other would call out, ‘Swim to me Matt, come on,’ all the while backing away.  So, by the time you reach them, you’ve learned how to swim, but you’re crying from the intense fear of drowning, and a deep sense of betrayal.”

Re-enactment

Good times.  Good times.

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