I am going to start writing about random childhood memories of mine here on my blog. My perception of my collection of childhood memories is that I remember much less of my childhood than most people do. I have a few scattered memories of various times and places, but for the most part my childhood is a complete blank in my mind. My mom suggested that perhaps it is because so much of my childhood was uneventful - not much to remember, in other words. Perhaps that is part of it. I suspect a larger part of it is that I have narcolepsy, and all narcoleptics seem to suffer from memory issues of one sort of another.

Since I first started thinking about my childhood memories, or lack thereof, I've discovered that I do remember more than I initially thought. However the memories aren't all readily available in my mind. They come to me randomly throughout the days and weeks and leave just as quickly. So in an effort to document them so I don't forever forget them I'm going to start writing about them in my blog. Hopefully others will find them interesting and won't be bored to tears by them.

It is also worth noting that the memories I will be sharing are only as accurate as my memory is - meaning some of what I share might never have actually happened, or might have happened rather differently than how I am explaining it.

The first memory I will share is an "imagined" one. I am quite sure this actually happened, but parents and siblings have both told me they have no recollection of this ever happening, thus I must have dreamed or imagined it. We've discussed this many times over the years, and to this day I still can't help but wonder if they really do remember this happening but will never tell me because it's rather humorous for me to have this "fake" memory.

I think I was between the ages of 4 and 7 at the time. It happened when our parents were taking us kids out west to visit our grandparents (Mom's parents). They lived in Wyoming, I think it was, and so we flew out to an airport in a neighboring state (Utah? I think?) and our grandparents picked us up from the airport and drove us back to their place. I remember the car ride back seemed to take a rather long time. Anyway, Dad wasn't able to fly out with us. I think it was due to obligations at work. We flew out ahead of him and the plan was that he would follow on a later flight, probably the next day, and bring our dog, Ginger, with him. He did arrive safely at some point after we did, and I remember him telling us about a scare they had on the flight over. The pilot had been flying *way* too low in the dark nightime skies and narrowly avoided colliding with a radio tower, thanks to the flashing light on top of it. After hearing that, we were VERY thankful that Dad had arrived safely!!

So there it is. The first childhood memory on my blog. And it's something that apparently never even happened (the part about Dad's plane almost colliding with a radio tower). I remember it quite well however!

1 Comment

1. Patricia on January 17, 2010 at 2:05 PM

   Pinedale, Wyoming to be exact. Salt Lake City, Utah for the airport. You were four years old and grandma was surprised you could read the "construction" signs along side the road. Yes, Dad and Ginger came out after we did and we were glad he arrived safely. The radio tower, well... what can I say? You either have a much better memory than the rest of us do or....