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My earliest memory is being left in my pram outside a shop in our village in England. Suddenly the world seemed very big and lonely, then my mother's face appeared in the window, looking out at me, but she quickly disappeared again. I thought she was gone forever and began to bawl. When she rushed out she was angry and shook me but I kept sobbing because I had been so frightened and she didn't understand. It was then I decided she didn't love me.
I remember sitting on my father's knee by the fire. He would smoke his pipe and tell me stories of wonderful adventures. To this day, whenever I smell pipecherry, I think of him.
My earliest memory is of my brother Mike stealing one of my toys. My father made him give it back.I don't remember what happened after Dad left the room, but I bet it wasn't good. Mike has never been nice to me unless he thought someone was watching.
That's a sad memory, Ricky. Yours is sad, too, Candy.My earliest memory is the sunlight through the tree leaves in spring, and the sound of birds singing. I don't remember anyone being nearby, but I felt safe and loved, being surrounded by so much peace and beauty.I wish everyone had such a happy first memory.
I just wanted to say that this is a wonderful blog :)
Thx Anon. Come stay awhile. I won't tell who you are.My earliest memory is of playing with Jason and Kaelin. I didn't even know it was Jason until a couple of years ago.
My earliest memory is being in a crib with Aidan. He was asleep. I was glad because he wasn't kicking me.I also have a memory of being with Mom, just me. I don't know where Aidan was.I have no early memories of our father at all.
An ocean trip, with Dad and Mum, to India. Before Marc was born, I think, or I'd have been thinking seriously of throwing him overboard.We didn't get on as boys.
I remember Dad and Uncle Nathanial laughing over something, at our house in Henley. They shut me out of the study, but I sat outside the door and listened. Don't recall the topic. Finally Uncle Nathanial pulled me in and let me sip some of his whiskey. Dad frowned on that but Uncle Nathanial just said, "Ah Jules, enjoy this reprieve with your son while you've got it. Won't last long." And he made Dad laugh again with some joke I didn't understand.I couldn't have been six years old. It was before everything.
Wow, I can't imagine my dad and Uncle Julian laughing together.
They were close, long ago.
Mine is a happy memory of lying under a palm tree, naked, with a soft breeze cooling the tropical summer day. I could hear Dad laughing, that deep good sound that made me chortle along with it and mother loomed over me, blotting out the sun. She gave me a piece of coconut to chew. I dropped it and rolled over onto my stomach, then onto my hands and knees to reach it. I guess it was my first time because everyone laughed and cheered. I thought the sound of the drums was for me and was very proud.
Marc, when you say "Henley," do you mean Henley-on-Thames? I lived there for a time... it was wonderful!
I agree with Nevin. Those are sad memories, Candy and Ricky.Of course, my earliest memory isn't much better. I was little - maybe no more than two. I was outside our tiny cabin, in the woods of southern Mississippi, playing in a sandbox that my dad built for me. I remembering Mom walking over to me. Her eyes were red - she'd been crying. She kissed me, whispered something, and walked down our long drive, disappearing into the woods. That was the last time I ever saw her... I'm seventeen now, and I can't remember what she looks like. Course, Dad says I look a lot like her, which might explain why he despises me so much.
He doesn't despise you, Meg. It just hurt him to remember...
Yes, Laura. I should be more specific. Our old house is there, but I'm afraid we don't get to stay very often. It's on the river.
Oh, thanks for the clarification, Marc. I only lived in Henley a short time, but I really enjoyed it. Of course, it was rather expensive... for a human.
Thanks, Indy, for trying to make me feel better.So, what about you? What's your earliest memory?
Hmm... that's hard to say. I grew up on a reservation, as you know. I'm not sure about my earliest memory, but for some reason, the sounds of drums and chanting comes to mind.
My earliest memory is of fear, and pain. And crying, though I don't know if it was me, my brother, or my mom. And anger, so much anger I just wanted to stay hidden in closet until he passed out.I learned to ignore the crying, and live with the pain. And I'm not sure I ever learned to come out of my closet very far. I still don't like to remember the past, and silence is my best defense.
My earliest memory is of my mom. Or rather, her fleeing back as the police sirens swirled all around me, and I couldn't get out of my car seat to run after her.Woh; bad flashback. Think I'll need a beer to flush that away.
Wow, Amy and Robert, what horrible memories. Makes me feel bad for complaining about my own bad experiences. At least my stepmom is a loving person, and I love my little brother something fierce.In my own case, I've found that beer only chases away the blues for a little while. They're usually back the next day... unless you face them head-on.
Ah, don't worry about us. We're working on ourselves together. Right Amy?Oh, she must be hiding again. That's OK. I got Cal for company, and he's always got a pipe to share. And his own memories, when he gets stoned enough.Yeah, things always seem better when you got friends to share your heartaches with. Right Bro?Bro?hehehe, it's all good. Cal's already dropped out, and I think I'll sit with him a while, see where his mind runs.'Night all.
Okay, Robert. Guess we're all works in progress... Good luck with everything. Hope you find Amy and Cal soon.
I guess all of my early memories involve my family and my dog, Charlie. It's hard to say which is the earliest one - now that I'm in my forties, the memories are a bit jumbled, snippets of fishing with my dad, story time with my mom, eating at New Orleans restaurants with my visiting grandparents, walking Charlie on the nearby levee, swimming in our backyard pool, meeting my first real friend, Beverly. For the most part, the snippets are all positive, though I do remember my mom crying a lot when I was little... It took me a long time to understand why.
I'm sorry, sweetheart, that you had to see me like that. I never wanted my depression to affect you.
Oh, Mom, it's all right. Knowing you were such a sad person made it easier for me to let you go when I was a teenager. And I think it's made me a more compassionate adult. Your leaving the family to pursue your own bliss also helped me to realize how important it is to follow your heart and make decisions that are best for you (not other people).Besides, I always felt loved, so nothing in my past affects me negatively now.
I'm glad, Liv. Makes me happy to hear that.I think it's safe to say that my childhood was a lot bleaker than yours. Although my happiest memories include my father in Memphis, he was shipped overseas when I was a little girl, and the memories after that are mostly bad - filled with sadness and loneliness.Although it's not my earliest memory, the most significant, of course, is the family Thanksgiving trip to Mammoth Cave that happened when I was an adolescent. That's when I disappeared in the caves, nearly died, and was rescued by Jesse, an inhabitant of Ruby Hollow, a secret underground village in southern Kentucky.I'd have to say that that memory - and the loss of my father at a young age - has contributed greatly to the person I am now.
Olivia, you're right about memories getting jumbled as you get older. I hardly remember my childhood. I guess the earliest thing I remember would be when my family visited Charles' family and I spent most of my time in their library. There were so many books there, and they all smelled so wonderful. I don't remember if I was actually able to read any of them, but I stared at the text for hours. To this day I still love books.
I like that memory, Alexander. The library in Ruby Hollow is like that for me. I love smelling the books... it's wonderfully soothing.
Hey Kaelin, wouldn't it have been cool if we got along with our parents the way Olivia and Devi do?
Can't even imagine it, bro.
Oh, don't misunderstand, Aidan. We didn't always get along.We went through a period (during my teen years) when things were pretty tense. I knew Mom was depressed, but I didn't understand why... until I found the love letters from Jesse (her long-lost soul mate). And things have been better ever since.I guess good communication and mutual understanding go a long way.
Aidan and Kaelin, When did you figure out that you were demons?Were your parents demons, too?How does that work?You've got me wondering if one day I'll wake up and find out I'm a supernatural being, as well...
Hmm, Ginger. That could be cool.
It's not half as cool as it sounds.Our Dad told us when our mother disappeared. (Long story) But I think we always knew, on some level. I've been able to read minds forever and we're just different, I guess. We never had many friends in school, though we had some buddies at University. Our parents are demons, but we have human blood from the start of our family line. The demon Maliquium mated with three human women to start three lines. They since expanded into our race. That was over a thousand years ago, though, so we're about as pure-blood demon as you can get.But yeah, some actual communication might have helped.
We go back and forth on this, Aidan and me. Right now he's in the bitter camp and I'm feeling a little more accepting. But his duties have been weighing on him lately, so I'm not surprised.
I'm surprised so many of you have negative childhood memories. I thought humans were a happier species.My earliest memory is watching my mother primping in front of a bronze mirror. She was always trying to attract the notice of one god or another.
Hello, Aidan! It's better to be a demon than a human, I think. We aren't prone to quite so many failings.I have no humans in my line, since djinns can't mate with humans. I suspect I'm part deity, though. My mother was quite the social climber.
B-grade deity, if that, djinna. No need to brag.
I wasn't bragging, sleazy. Go away.
I want to know what Bo's first memory is.In detail.He can even act it out if he wants.
Somebody's randy in the morning!
It probably had to do with breasts.
Woah, Ginger, I didn't think you'd be so, uh, blunt.
What? It's just a word.That I can't write here.Because there are too many moms around.
Sorry to disappoint you ladies, but my first memory is kind of boring. My mom wanted to take me and my sister Charity out among humans for some reason. I don't know why. She was probably looking for a man and couldn't find a demon-sitter.Anyway, I was pretty upset that I had to wear pants. I tried to take them off, but Mom slapped me. Charity laughed at me, I hit her, and things went from bad to worse. We went back home and everyone was mad at me, but at least I didn't have to wear those dumb pants any more.
You have trousers on in your picture, Bo.
Hi, Lucy. Ricky says I have to wear pants if I come around here. But if you want to go off somewhere alone together, I'd be happy to take them off.
Lucy is not available. Sorry, Bo.
What's the big deal, Marc? We live with Aidan, who regularly forgets to dress before coming out for breakfast. I'm used to naked demons.Just not naked demons who look like Bo.
Gosh, Marc's adorable when he gets jealous. Look, his little face is all red and he's-- WHOA! Stop throwing stuff at me!Gotta go!
Nice one, Marc, trying to post not available under my name. Like they're fooled.You're right, Aidan. He's so cute when he's jealous.
No need to worry, Marc. Other demons don't really do much for me. My preference is humans.
He's telling the truth, Marc. If Bo can have a human of either gender, he won't bother with demons. Makes it tough for me when there aren't any women around, though.
If you weren't such a prude, Ricky...
No. I've told you at least a hundred times, Bo. Absolutely not. Forget it. No.
Bo, don't you think you should leave now? It seems you're being very disruptive and keeping us from our conversation about our childhood memories.Perhaps someone has some happy memories to share.
I thought I had a happy childhood, fairy.Sitting in front of the fire with my mom, eating a piece of her homemade bread with honey sounds pretty disgusting, but it's my first memory. Before I was turned, I cherished it.
I was thinking the same thing, Nevin. Not so much that Bo should leave, but that we'd somehow strayed from the topic at hand...Hmm. Happy memories? Oh, yeah, I was really little when I tried my first raw oyster. Cool and slimy and absolutely delicious. I liked them from the start.
Oh, so you were turned into a vampire, Vic?For some reason, I thought you were a pureblood. Not that it matters, of course...
I can't remember most of my childhood. I've just been around for too long. I do however have one happy memory. I was being forced by my mother to take dancing lessons. I remember sulking when the instructor came. Although she was an... elderly woman, she was quite nice, and we quickly became friends. I grew to cherish those lessons.
I think talking about Bo and his pants...or lack thereof, is pretty interesting.Not trying to hijack the topic though. My earliest memories are with my human family. A bunch of brothers, my really great mom and Dad.It seems like a hundred years ago, though.
Well, it was almost a hundred years ago for you, Lucy.
Do you dance now, Charles?
Lucy, I do still occasionally dance, whenever I have the time and can find a partner. Which unfortunately is very rarely.
Oh, Michael and I love to dance... we even took ballroom dancing lessons in San Antonio. That was a lot of fun.Of course, we're not usually that formal about it. We'll settle for boogie-ing in a honkytonk bar in Austin, or one of the many island joints where dancing is encouraged.
Oops. Now, I sort of went off-topic.I just thought of another early memory. When I was little, my mom and I used to go for bike rides in the neighborhood, and one day, we were riding down this particular street when we spied a nice, middle-aged lady weeding the garden in her front yard. For some reason, we stopped to chat, and she eventually became my piano teacher and a pseudo-grandmother to me. We were very close throughout my life, and I was very sad when she passed away.
I can do a happy memory.Wait, does it have to be a happy childhood memory?Hmm. I've blocked out most of my childhood.But, there is something. I remember my first day of school. I didn't like being around so many new people, but I liked that the noise of the other kids let me sit alone, unobserved, in the total quiet of my own making.It was so nice not to worry about getting noticed, I took a nap, and because I'd been so good during quiet time, I got graham crackers and milk.Does that count as a happy memory.
Yes, Amy, I'd say that counts. :-)
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