I have a good memory. I actually find it shocking when I forget something. And even scary. Oh no! I forgot! It’s Alzheimer Disease!
My good memory is usually a good thing. Not according to my ex-husband, but to myself and most others, a good memory is a good thing.
My earliest memory is of being hospitalized when I was about two years old. I’m told it’s unusual to remember things that early. (If you feel like commenting, I’d love to know how old you were in your earliest memory.) I remember being mad that I had a crib because I slept in a “big bed” at my house. And I remember a black dresser at the end of the hallway that held puzzles and coloring books. I leaped from the crib to get to that dresser and still can remember the pain of my knee hitting the green vinyl tile floor.
I also remember that my medicine was put in orange juice. And I hated to drink it.
Hated it. Hated. It.
Let me try to describe it: You know when you eat something garlicky and then don’t brush your teeth before going to bed and somehow your mouth falls open while you sleep because your sinuses are bothering you so you wake up feeling like maybe a rat crawled into your mouth during the night?
That is how the orange juice tasted.
So, I don’t drink orange juice because it tastes terrible, right? I do drink mimosas. Apparently- in my mind- champagne completely changes the scenario. But here’s a weird thing, I do not like champagne by itself and I don’t want too much in the orange juice because it makes it taste bad.
I do like oranges. And I like to squeeze them into a glass and drink that.
Yet- yes, again in MY mind- I do not like orange juice.
Because it tastes bad.
My husband does like orange juice. He’ll pour me a glass sometimes. And I sip it. And I am stunned to find it tastes…well, GOOD. It tastes like oranges. But, you know, juiced.
I think this is revealing. It is revealing how weird I am. In all these years I have not figured out that I DO like orange juice. That it was the medicine in the orange juice that tasted like old garlic-sinusitis-rat mouth.
But it also occurred to me that this can happen with more than orange juice. We can get an idea about something in our heads and it is true regardless of proof to the contrary. We can do this about orange juice. Or people.
So, turns out: I do like orange juice. Amazing.
My earliest memory is from when I was two or three. I contracted mumps while recovering from chicken pox. We were living in NYC where, in those days, stores still delivered groceries to your apartment. I remember telling a delivery boy, rather proudly, “I have mumps!” and seeing a look of horror cross his face.
How weird that both of our first memories are of illness! That poor delivery boy probably checked himself over for weeks.
Mine is also at about 2 to 3. I had the measles. The doctor made a house call to check on me. My doll had lost her eyes and I asked him to fix them. Of course he could not. My mom put teddy bear eyes in the doll for me. I still have the doll. Another memory is at the same age. My dad was on active duty with the RAF and stationed in the middle east for 2 years with no visits. I had a photo of him I carried in my pockets. I was convinced the photo was my dad until awhile after he returned home. He had a hard time convincing me that he was my dad and not the photo.
Another one with illness too. I know so many people that don’t remember that far back so maybe it’s the illness. That is so cute about the doll. That’s really interesting about your Dad and the photo. Glad he convinced you! 🙂