I’m sure we all have some snatches of recollection from our early childhood. My mother once told me my first word was ashtray. My first memory of my father was of him cursing a blue streak. I’m not sure if this happened, but I can picture myself as a toddler, crying out in delight, reaching for the glass ashtray on the table next to Dad’s chair, accidentally knocking it to the floor where it broke into a million pieces, leaving my poor, dear father with a burning cigarette and nowhere to dispose of the ashes.
In the post I’m sharing today, Pete offers some bits and pieces from his own early childhood. After you read this post, maybe you’d like to share anything you remember from those early days, either here or on Pete’s blog. I hope you enjoy this trip down Memory Lane.
Recently, distant memories have started to appear in my mind, like watching an old newsreel clip for the briefest time. They are always childhood memories, mere snapshots of when I was very young, little more than a toddler. As I don’t remember many specifics before I started school at the age of five, those earliest memories fascinate me. They show that memory starts much earlier than I had ever considered.
Read the full post here.