April 2: My Earliest Memory

twoMy earliest memory is still a very distinct experience in my head.  It feels like I’m standing on my mum’s lap, and I’m looking over her shoulder.  I can see the wooden dowels of the rocking chair we’re sitting in, and I know that the rocking chair is on a circular-ish (oval?) woven rag rug.

As I’m looking over her shoulder, I can see a large body of water, probably the ocean, through the window past some trees and houses and power lines.  The colors are kind of muddy and subdued, like a heavily polluted sky, but I can see the fuzzy line of the horizon.

There’s a man with us, an elderly man who is still fairly fit for his age.  His hair is really, really white, and his eyes are the bluest blue I’ve ever seen, and he has a great smile.  He’s kind, and he is my friend.  He’s talking to me and playing with me, and I feel like I’m talking back to him and that he understands me.  I don’t remember exactly what we’re talking about.

He’s there a lot.  He sits with me sometimes at night when I wake up, and he likes to rock in the rocking chair when we’re not in it.

For years and years, I thought this happened in San Diego, or maybe Texas City, and that this guy was of our string of roommates from throughout the years, like Ronnie and Lenny.  When I asked my parents about it later, they swore that they never lived with an old man, and when I described the scene to my mum, she said that the only place that that could have been was in St Petersburg, Florida.

We moved away from St Pete when I was four months old.  We lived in a garage apartment that came with a rocking chair and rug, right there in front of the window, and my mum said she caught it rocking by itself more than once.

So… yeah, my earliest memory was probably of a ghost.

Tomorrow:  my first love?

Dawn Written by:

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