First Memories

The older I get the more I lose.  Hand-eye coordination, flexibility, stamina, concentration and memories are just a few of the things I lose daily.  The memories bother me the most at the moment.  I have been struggling to recall what I would consider a first memory.  One of my goals for this blog is to store some of my memories and what they mean to me.  So for the past couple of days I have been casting backwards into my memories to see if I could identify my first real memory.  Some memories are implanted by other people by telling you what you did or what happened.  I want a memory that is all mine and not as told to me by someone else.

     I settled on one memory that must have held a lot of significance for me because it is consistently the one that has returned to me throughout my life.  I remember walking through the house on Montrose Dr. on what must have been a pre-inspection or pre-move in tour.  I recall looking into the big fireplace in the living room and looking down the stairway to the basement.  The fireplace was pristine white.  It holds a special place in my memories in years to come but it's always black inside from use.  The stairs were always an endless source of fascination for me.  They were very steep and long with a landing 3/4 of the way down and a 90 degree turn to the left.  I spent many hours on the stairs with Slinky's, race tracks and Hot Wheels, sliding down the rails, G.I. Joe, Star Wars, green army men and a whole host of other toys.  The stairs were a weird combination of danger and safety.  The downstairs was of course scary, so the stairs provided me with a semi safe place to play without being in the scary downstairs.

   There you have my first memory.  Not very exciting but never the less a real memory from when I was about 2 years old.