I was thinking about what kinds of things I remember as I sat waiting in a doctor’s office.  It seems that I have always had this capacity to entertain myself inside my head.  If this has to have a name let’s call it imagination.  Anyway, I amuse myself with memories some times and today I was trying to decide what my first real memory is.

There are events from childhood that I remember my family talking about and I can’t be sure if I remember them or if I just remember the story about them.  For instance, I remember the story about  how my new born brother peed in my face the first time I watched him get his diaper changed.  I used to think maybe I remembered that but if I ever did I don’t remember it now.

So as I sat quietly waiting I came up with a first real memory that I am sure happened just as I recall it.  I don’t remember everything about this memory to tell it as one would a story because it is not like that.  It’s more about recreating the moment.  I remember my dad taking hold of me at my waist and lifting me up so that I was looking down into his face.  It felt like flying.  We were laughing as he turned round and round and I held my arms out and pointed my toes to pretend to be an airplane.  My dad has green eyes and brown hair parted on the side and kept in place with hair oil.  His smile shows the small gap between his front teeth.

That’s all.  I wish I could put this happy feeling in a time and place but what I am sure I remember is the happy sensation of flying above my dad’s face.  I would have to have been small for him to lift me up like that, probably less than three years old.  I wonder if I could begin with this memory and put what I remember in order from then until now.  This may prove challenging since I right this minute I cannot remember whether or not I locked the door after taking the dog out.




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