Hi I'm Susan, I was born in Salt Lake City in the same hospital that my mother was born in. I grew up in Chicago, but visited Utah often as that is where nearly all my extended family lived. I am and extrodinarily tall woman, I'm taller than most men, I read and occasionally write, I play the piano, paint, crochet, sometimes cook and never clean if I can help it.
This isn't really my first memory, but is my earliest made up memory based on old photographs and stories that my parents told me. I imagine my dad, young with all of his red curly hair, carrying me the two blocks to my grandparent's house from the hospital. You see they had not bought a car seat yet, so my grandparents drove my mom home, but my dad carried me, probably his first moments alone with me, his first baby. The sun must have been shining, it usually does in May, and it would have made his hair look redder, and he would have hoped and imagined my hair being red but unable to deny the blond curls.
This of course is all my imagination, but it is so real to me because I've walked those same streets, walked by that same hospital. "Earliest memories are an indicator of other lift problems" I wonder if this applies to made up memories. I've seen my younger dad in pictures, the one I can't actually remember, and I know how he loves me. I can only imagine and I probably paint a too perfect picture, but I treasure it still, incomplete though it may be.
"Most early memories include the Mother. . . "
It's interesting that my mom appears no where in what I call my earliest memory, though she fills so many of my others. I wonder how many of my memories are made up.