First Memories

There are things you remember because people tell you about them all the time. I know my first word was Light, but only because my parents have told me. These stories will be about my memories, and the memories of my parents, because they are part of who I am.


My first memory was pre-school. I called it preschool, but it was really a daycare where they taught you one thing a day and you did what you want the rest of the time. I am the same person I was then.

His name was Troy. I don't remember how, but we were together. We were in love. We pulled our cots together for naps, which I refused to take. When they split us up and he stayed at the park while I went back to Momma Louisa's. I remember looking out the window as the van pulled away from the park. Tears streamed down my face and my heart sunk deeper and deeper the farther away I got.

Once he went off with a bunch of other girls for coloring time. I was in a rage of jealousy, and I was determined to tell him off. Then he came up to me, with the rest of the girls trailing behind. He held up a picture he drew and colored for me, with the girl's help. I felt my heart swoon. I knew I loved him with all my heart.

A few weeks later we had all gone across the street and got balloons for someone's birthday. Everyone decided they would let go of their balloons at the same time. I didn't want to let mine go, I wanted to keep it and show it to my Mom when I got picked up. They all peer-pressured me into doing it, but I was the last to let go. I looked above my head and watched all the balloons go in a bunch, and felt a sense of loss bigger than I had ever felt before.

I spent the day in the office, and refused to go into the daycare. They had a parrot in the office I watched all day, enraptured. This continued all week until my Mom asked if I didn't want to go there anymore. The answer was yes.