Thursday, September 01, 2011

My first memories

The other day we had a visit from my youngest granddaughter. She is 18 months old and not quite used to us. She wants to be holding on to her mother's hand. I think it is a case of
'Always keep a hold of nurse
For fear of finding something worse.'

I was trying to imagine what it might be like for her by recalling my own memories of being that age.

My earliest memory is of visiting my rich Jewish great grandmother. I am told that she died when I was 18 months old and I know that as a family we visited Worcester at Christmas and in the summer, so I must have been either 9 or 15 months old at the time. I remember that I was still in napkins (diapers) and not walking. Although I understood many words I didn't know the difference between a wireless and a piano. I could speak but I was too shy to do so. I was sitting on my father's knee. I therefore suspect that this was Christmas 1943.

Even then, although I could not and cannot remember what they were, I already had memories. What I remember of the day was that everybody was talking about things I didn't understand, but at one stage of the afternoon I became the center of attention. I was asked if I wanted to play the piano which left me confused because perched on the piano was a Bakelite radio which I knew I had been forbidden to touch. I clearly didn't know the difference.

So I suspect that my granddaughter still finds life very confusing.

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