Someone posted his earliest memory in a blog and it triggered the rewind switch on my brain.
My earliest memory (of which I am unsure is a true memory or something my young brain made up) is of me being carried on my dad's shoulders as we returned home from a walk somewhere. My four older brothers were running around us, laughing and pushing each other.
This memory always stands out for me. Not just because I can't decide if it is an actual memory or a dream, but because of the age I would have been *if* this is an actual memory. Two of my older brothers died when I was 2 and my parents divorced soon afterward, stealing away another brother. Rick is my dad's son from a previous relationship so when my parents split, Rick went with dad while James and I went with mom.
If I spend any time analyzing this memory (or dream), I would conclude this may have formed my aversion to bonding with people. But I spend enough time overanalyzing everything else in my life to waste any time on that.
My mom avoids talking about the time she and my dad were married. And the pain shown in her eyes from the memories of tragically losing two children keeps me from pushing the matter. I have a difficult time talking to my dad about anything (that's a whole other blog post!) and James becomes overwhelmed with guilt and grief at the mention of anything in that era. So I am left on my own to figure out if it's a true memory or just the memory of a potent dream.
