Earliest Memories

There was flat road. The air was hot and the breeze blew past my face. The road was lined with sparse trees that were tall and slender. I remember being surrounded by yellow and being exceptionally happy. Content, if you will. I was 2 years old and this is my earliest memory.

People have asked me questions about it, like “How do you remember that image?” or “Are you sure someone didn’t tell the story to you and you personalized it?” Rest assured these things did not happen. I have always been in touch with my feelings, being called princess and the pea often because I am too sensitive. I thought it was merely a dream and described it to my mom. My mom said her and my father used to ride bicycles all the time and I was always in the back in a yellow bicycle seat, wind blowing my hair around on a Mississippi road lined with tall thin trees.

My mom and dad met when they were still in high school. To hear my mom tell it she wasn’t really that into him, but went along at his insistence. How much of this is true I don’t know, because I never really got my father’s side of the story.

(Continued)