Thursday’s Thoughts ~ Early Childhood Memories

What are your earliest childhood memories?  How old were you at the time? Why do you think those memories are what stayed?  How are those memories important to you?

This week is my question and I’m so excited!  I am always curious to hear about other people’s earliest childhood memories.  If you are too, here’s mine – and don’t forget to visit Thursday’s Thoughts‘ home base for more entries and comments:

My earliest childhood memories take place in our first family home in Sparta, Michigan.  We lived there until the summer before I started first grade, so I was five and younger while  we lived there.  Interestingly enough, many of those memories fall into two categories:  me being purposefully naughty and adults around me being upset.  Here are some examples:

Mischievous Jennifer

I think this is my earliest memory, although it’s hard to tell.  We had older neighbors who lived behind us up a little hill.  My mother had told me not to go up there and bother them, but I liked to visit with them.  I have a very vivid memory of sneaking up the hill to go visit them and giggling because my mother didn’t know.  The couple are not actually in my memory itself.  As it turns out, my mother told me not to go visit them because the woman was very ill.  They liked it when I visited though, so no one really minded.  What a waste of mischievousness.

My friend Sherry Holiday and her older sisters taught me how to make a sugar sandwich.  You take a slice of bread, sprinkle spoonfuls of sugar on it and mash it into the bread with your spoon.  It sounds gross to me today, but I thought it was yummy then.  I told my mother that I was going to get some crackers and instead fixed myself a sugar sandwich.  Why I remember this, I have no idea.

Finally, on a Sunday morning after my parents got my brother and me reading for Mass, I cut chunks out of Rob’s hair.  I don’t actually remember the cutting.  What I remember is trying to come up with a good story to place the blame on my brother.  I was over confident of my success, so I was shocked when I get into trouble.  What I hadn’t taken into consideration was that my brother was too young to work scissors.  It’s the details that get you in the end.

I am a fun-loving and somewhat mischievous person.  I enjoy pulling a practical joke as much as I loved being punked by them.  I can see that part of my personality was already there from the beginning.  I very much have my father’s sense of fun and he got into his share of trouble growing up.  I was too much of a pleaser to have a devil may care attitude about such things.  I was always careful to make sure that I wasn’t caught.  If my risk analysis made me uncomfortable, I didn’t do it.  Did I get away with everything, no – but I was too concerned with disappointing adults in authority to do anything really terrible to begin with.

Adults in Peril

I distinctly remember the day that Elvis died.  I remember how muggy it was in the living room when we heard Mrs. Holiday cry on the front porch before she knocked on the door.  When my mom asked her what was the matter, she cried about Elvis.  Mom comforted her for some time before she left.  Afterward, I asked Mom who Elvis was.  Although I can’t remember her response, I could tell she didn’t think it was worth getting so upset about.  It taught me an  important lesson in compassion.  It doesn’t matter what you think about a person’s problem.  It’s not about you, it’s about them.  You should always do you best to help them feel better.

Our house in Sparta was on a rather busy road, but there was room to take us for walks down to the residential area just down the way.  One day my dad was pushing my brother in the stroller and I was walking along  side of him.  All of the sudden, a car drove by us like a bat out of hell.  My dad yelled at the car, “Slow down!”  The car came to a halt and started backing up toward us.  I remember seeing something shining out the passenger’s side window, but my dad denies there was a knife.  Dad told me to hurry and take Rob across the street back into our driveway as fast as I could.  I was scared for my dad, but I did what I was told.  I don’t remember much of what happened after that, but nothing happened.  This was not the last time my dad shouted at speeding cars to slow down, but I always felt unsettled when he did.

Of course, I have other memories of the important people in my life like playing Don’t Spill the Beans on the living room floor with my Grandma Currie.  I remember her polyester outfit and the way she had her hair done up so pretty.  I remember driving forever to Ludington to visit Grandma and Grandpa Dodde in Ludington.  I remember watching Bob Barker and Donny & Marie on television.  I remember the For Sale sign in front of that house and I remember thinking there was a kidnapper underneath my bed.  I had a happy early childhood for which I am very thankful.  I was loved and safe.  You can’t buy that.  I hope that my children, who are 6 and 4 have similar safe and warm memories.

What are your earliest childhood memories?