from Wikipedia:
- While short-term memory encodes information acoustically, long-term memory encodes it semantically: Baddeley (1966)[6] discovered that after 20 minutes, test subjects had the most difficulty recalling a collection of words that had similar meanings (e.g. big, large, great, huge) long-term. Another part of long-term memory is episodic memory "which attempts to capture information such as “what”, “when” and “where”.[7][full citation needed] With episodic memory individuals are able to recall specific events such as birthday parties and weddings.
What is your first memory? What has stayed with you all these many years? Has it shaped you?
Memories of Childhood. by Geoffrey Cervantes
When I was two years old I underwent a series of operations to repair a cleft pallet that I was born with. I can't recall which surgery it was but my first memory is of a hospital room. I recall waking up with a plastic cocoon around my head to ward off infection. I remember that I could hear my own breathing and I remember that there was nobody in the room with me. One of my parents or family members were typically always there but they had gone off to get a cup of coffee or something like that. I remember being frightened of the dark room, the cold floors etc. That's my first memory. I really like to have people around me, almost always. I am an extremely social person and I think this experience may have a little bit to do with that.
Yeah, it's not a happy memory. Don't get me wrong though, I had a really nice childhood.
I remember I concocted the perfect business plan for when I was older: I would purchase cars in bulk, and sell them for pennies, or at least terribly cheap. Because the prices of my cars were so low, everyone would come to my car dealer place, and I would become a billionaire. I didn't have a very good idea of how economics worked back then :P. I was about five-ish? Three-ish? I think?
You would be shocked how many business owners I've met that still think this way. No joke.
This is probably a cliched/"typical" American childhood memory, but playing catch with my dad on the sidewalk outside of our house. It's something that's still relaxing to me to this day, just tossing a baseball with a friend. I'm also still a big Baseball fan and enjoy playing recreationally.
That's a wonderful first memory. I still keep two gloves and a baseball in my trunk at all times. I love having a catch.
Me too! Because I would feel so stupid if I went somewhere and someone somehow wanted to play catch and I didn't have my trusty glove. Also to baseball games because if you go to a baseball game without a glove you're worse than a celebrity sitting courtside at a Knicks game and texting the entire time.
That's a great idea! I always have one in the vicinity. Baseball games are always good, and I live close enough to Cooperstown to go there every couple of years, that's another good memory.
My earliest vivid memory is of my grandma. My parents left me with her one night when I was perhaps only two years old, so that they could go out and do whatever it was they had to do. For some reason, on that particular evening, I was in a terrible mood, and I cried for my mom, as kids sometimes do. My grandmother, not being a woman who was bother by much, let me sit there and have a fit by the door. It must have gone for some minutes, because the neighbor lady who lived in the condo upstairs came down and knocked on the door to see if everything was alright. At that point my grandma looked at me and said, ok, you can go into my bedroom and continue to cry as much as you want, or you can stay out here, but you can't cry. Not wanting to have to be locked in a bedroom where no one could hear my protest, I chose to shut up. I think I remember it, because it was my first actual life lesson. Kids are sometimes a lot smarter than we give them credit for. They aren't always unreasonable. But that was my grandma, fair but firm. I recounted that story when I gave her eulogy, because it really affected me a lot. We all have a choice, even when we have to choose between two things that seem less than optimal.
I think I should add to this, my family has a treasured home video from my infancy in which one of my taller relatives is holding me on his shoulder at my great-grandmother's house while everyone stands around and talks. I'm not the focus of the video, but you can see me in the background, tears streaming down my face, as the ceiling fan on low repeatedly comes around and whacks me in the back of the head. No one noticed until they watched the video years later. Luckily I do not remember this.
This reminds me of my family's favourite home video of me... It was Christmas in the mid-late 90's when I was still a toddler. My father and my uncle are pretty funny guys, and every year they sent each other a prank gift. That year's gift for my father was a small, purple, air-filled, plastic monster with weird hair and little tube coming out of its head. When you squeezed the monster, it produced a fart noise that was pretty comical... but not to me. I was horrified! (Keep in mind this is all on video). I started crying and no one could stop me, all while my little brother was climbing around on tables. Whenever there is a family gathering, especially with the aunt, uncle, and cousin that were there, we always play this video.
Maybe I shouldn't be, but right now I'm laughing… Pretty funny stuff.
I think perhaps riding with my mother on her bike to get groceries when I was very, very young. She had a basket on her bike but I still don't know how she fit me, her, and all the bags on the bike at once. I guess since I was a baby and all we could afford was rice it wasn't a big deal.
That sounds like a really nice memory. I'm envisioning it through the lens of a Norman Rockwell painting.
I was around four years old. My parents were having a little party in our apartment, probably around 20 people - it wasn't a very big apartment, so it was quite crowded. I was playing with some toy, running around the living room and kitchen area. I was so focused in my game, the people around me kind of blended into the background and I pretty much forgot they were there. Suddenly, I had someting I simply had to tell my dad. I looked around for him and saw his back. I ran up to him and tugged at his shirt. He turned around. Only it wasn't him. It was one of the guests. My father has a full beard - this guy was shaved clean. The difference between my expectation and what actually was there startled me, and I started weeping. Then my dad picked me up and all was right with the world once again.
I climbed up some book shelves. They were attached to the wall using regular T-slot brackets. I wanted to get to the top shelf because that's where the chocolates were kept. The shelves collapsed, and I fell, surrounded by books. I was saying, apparently, "Oh dear! Oh dear!". I was 3. I can also remember a vivid dream I had of a snake going over my pillow, and an apple. I was upset when I woke that there was no apple there. That was also when I was 3.
Snake and an apple? Did you grow up in a very religious home? That's some major symbolism for a 3 year old.
My first memories are all from the same place, so I'm unsure as to when they actually happened, but they all took place between my birth and the age of 6. The first one that popped up in my head was when Santa came to visit. He rang the doorbell and my parents invited my younger brother and I to see who it was. He gave us some candy canes and mom took some pictures. The pictures have really helped preserve that memory. There is another one swimming around in my head, but I don't know if I can really call it a memory. I think I had a dream about it when I was very young and that is what stuck with me. The memory is of my grandfather (from my dad's side) holding and playing with me. He passed away not too long after I came into the world. My grandma always told me how he would literally sneak out of the house to come over and play. That just warms my heart!
I don't quite remember how old I was, but I believe I was about 3 years old. I was either in southeastern Kansas or South Carolina for one of my oldest sister's last track meets before she developed a tumor in her back. Walking up to the area surrounding the track field was a dysfunctional water fountain. In this water fountain was a bird's nest with an entire bird family in it. I was walking past it with my dad, holding his hand, staring in fascination at the innovation of the birds.
I think my first vivid memory was in preschool. We were sitting in a circle and my teacher was talking to us. She always wore a lot of blue eye shadow, and I always thought it looked funny. I was maybe 3 or 4 at the time. Anyway, I blurted out "your eyes look stupid!" ...she wasn't impressed and I was put in timeout for a while. I think I genuinely hurt her feelings, now I look back and cringe. I learned a bit about tact. But I still hate excessive eye makeup.
Do you remember if she wore the eye makeup again after that? Also, I don't think you're alone with disliking excessive makeup.