What is your earliest memory of your own life?

I greatly appreciate everyone's contributions, here. I find it very interesting that so many of you remember wayyyyyyyyy back when you were quite young, as I do. Thanks, again!
 

I remember in bits and pieces but it was so long ago. Going to the hairdressers with my grandma and the lady would dump hundreds of Bobby pins on the floor and give me a magnet to pick them up with.

Running away in the middle of the night and being picked up by a stranger and he returned me home.

Playing grocery store with my cousin. We would cut out food items from catalogs and use them to stock our store.

Sliding down our hill and smashing into a tree. That one hurt.

This is just some and I was quite young but don’t remember ages.
 
I remember when I was about 2, being lifted up to the coffin to kiss my granny goodbye after she passed away.

Also remember that I was punished at the graveside, when I wanted to throw the traditional handful of dirt on the coffin, and was upset when I wasn't allowed to.

On a brighter side, I do remember being in a child care centre. The head teacher's name was Miss Comfortiis, but I always called her miss Comfort, because that was what she was to me.
 

I was 7, my sister came in and said "the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor. I had only a vague idea of who the Japs were, and no clue as to where Pearl Harbor was.

Years later as a sailor I sailed into Pearl Harbor. The USS Arizona memorial had not been built yet and Hawaii was not yet a state. We did spend a pleasant week there.
 
I was 7, my sister came in and said "the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor. I had only a vague idea of who the Japs were, and no clue as to where Pearl Harbor was.

Years later as a sailor I sailed into Pearl Harbor. The USS Arizona memorial had not been built yet and Hawaii was not yet a state. We did spend a pleasant week there.

Out of curiosity, do you dislike/hate the Japanese, after all these decades? Asking, because I'm Japanese Canadian, and always wondered if the hatred lasts.
 
I remember when I was about 2, being lifted up to the coffin to kiss my granny goodbye after she passed away.

Also remember that I was punished at the graveside, when I wanted to throw the traditional handful of dirt on the coffin, and was upset when I wasn't allowed to.

On a brighter side, I do remember being in a child care centre. The head teacher's name was Miss Comfortiis, but I always called her miss Comfort, because that was what she was to me.

I was made to look at my dead grandfather in his coffin. It was hideous, to me, at four years of age. From then on, I have refused to go to funerals. I see them as a remnant of our barbaric past. I can't stand when people talk about closure. I want to think of the dead as still being with me, in my memories of them. I don't want to see them as lifeless, waxy corpses.
 


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