Sunday, December 18, 2005

First Things First

The first thing I remember, and I mean the first absolutely for certain thing I remember, was waking up one morning all of two years old and not remembering a single thing that had happened the day before, or the the day before that, or any day for that matter. I just sat up on my bed completely aware of my lack of memory. I remember staying like that for at least five minutes, as if by sitting there waiting something might come back.

I could hear people in the living room so I tiptoed up to the door and peeked out to see. I saw my father reading the newspaper and my mother eating breakfast. Even though I didn't remember anything they felt familiar. My mother saw me and called me out to breakfast. We went on the rest of the day like nothing and I never mentioned it to anyone.

It always bothered me to have woken up like someone flipped a switch in my head to the on position. Just didn't seem right. I wondered if anyone else had felt like this. Most people I've asked tell me stories about remembering people or places, but no one ever mentioned waking up a blank slate.

As a child and even up to my late teens, I used to experience Deja Vu on a semi-regular basis. I used to attribute the Deja Vu to my first memory, like it was my own super hero origin story or something. I imagined I'd already lived my life and somehow it was starting over again. That's why it all felt vaguely like a rerun sometimes.