Last night I worked on the long-overdue task of cleaning some stuff out of my desk at home. In the process, I filled up a garbage bag which I later took out to the curb. In one of my desk drawers, stuffed pretty far in the back, I came across a cache of photographs. Some of them were years old, and I stopped to look through them to see what I’d find. I knew I ‘d keep them, I just wanted to know what was there.
There were some from years before I met the hubby, and others from when I first moved to D.C. Then I came across some of my childhood pictures. These stopped and looked at for a long time. I recognized the kid in those pictures, but at the same time I didn’t. I don’t remember anything before the age of five. So, I have no memory of the times when a lot of those pictures.
I don’t remember smiling that big or that much. I do know at some point I stopped smiling for pictures. I remember not liking my smile very much, for a long time. I remember not liking pictures of myself very much either. But I don’t remember that kid. Sometimes I wonder, though, what happened to him.
Anyway, of those pictures, my favorite is currently sitting on my desk, waiting for me to get a frame for it. It’s a picture of me and my sister, from when I was about 2 1/2—the same age Parker is now. I thought maybe I’d share it here. You can see it right after the jump.
Like I said, sometimes I wonder what happened to that kid.
“I wonder what happened to that kid”
He grew up and married a man and they raised a happy healthy boy of their own!
“I don’t remember anything before the age of five.”
FIVE! I’m lucky if I can remember things before the age of 25!
Hon–which one is you???? *running for cover*
Very few people remember things before age 5. There’s some fancy explanation about language and permanence of objects and memories, blah blah, but the point it, it’s not that you had some odd childhood or blocked it out when you got older, you simply forgot because you grew up. We all did. There are a few people that remember farther back. Some that have forotten most of their preteen days (FWIW, Dan has no real firm memories of anything before he was about 10! I say it’s because his life was so structured and scheduled as to be eventless and forgetable) I remember a few snippets of things, usually of times when I was upset or hurt, but very little of regular, everyday things. I guess the day my brother sprayed hairspray in my eyes, or when I fell of the bed and dislocated my elbow are just out of the ordinary enough to stick a little longer! Owe was 4 when he was in the delivery room for Eli’s birth. He hardly talked of anything else for a solid 6 months afterwards. It was such a powerful memory for me, but he only remembers a little bit about cutting the cord and nothing else. That’s probably just as well, it wasn’t my best side, if you know what I mean and I know if I saw that side of my mom, I’d blot it from my memory as well!
So, you aren’t weird. There is probably nothing sinister in your past that you are repressing. You just grew up and your brain and your memories grew too! Thank goodness you eventually grew into that forehead though!
And God bless your mother, you had a big ole’ head as a kid! I should talk, my head was big and practically square and had just enough dark hair growing that it looked like I had a fungus on my scalp!