I am known to having the best memory in the family. If anyone needs to know dates, names, phone numbers, addresses...whatever, they come to me. So when I sat down to recollect my earlier memory it was a struggle. We're told we don't actually remember early childhood memories but the story told by those who witnessed it. I'm sure that's the case many times but this is about MY first memory.
I was about 2 years old and we were living in Alaska at the time. My brother and I were home and my grandparents were visiting. My brother and I were at the top of the landing when we headed down the stairs. I was wearing something for bed having either just woke up or on the way to bed. Miss Independent that I am and always was, I decided to take the trek down the stairs by myself. And down the stairs I went. Rolling. All the way to the bottom.
Come to find out I broke my leg. It wasn't detrimental. A little green stick snap, which healed nicely and I was happy as a lark. The details are sketchy but rolling down the stairs is definitely my first memory.
There are many out there I'd love to share with you...another time, perhaps. ;)
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