Memory Lane Friday - Your First Memory

This week's theme is "your first memory." It's a good topic - and hard! I have a bunch of early memories that are kinda fuzzy in my mind, like that dream you try to remember, but for all your effort only come up with bits and pieces of emotions and a snapshot of some scene that doesn't exactly make sense. Yep, I have some snapshots in my head from the early years.

But my first real memory where I can distinctly conjure up the details? Hmmm, I must've been about 3, and my parents and I still lived in El Paso, TX.

 I'm about 2.5 years old in this photo. I'm in my grandparents' room (my Oma is there next to me), getting ready for a "swim" in the wading pool:

And because my parents and I were still in El Paso, I remember being at my grandparents' house on Blue Ridge Circle a lot!

This particular memory is, of course, a scene from life at their house. We were all out in the back yard - my parents, me, my grandparents, possibly some uncles and/or cousins - older cousins - I was the youngest by far. I'm remembering I didn't have any playmates my age in this memory. It was evening, just before dusk when the sun was low in the sky, just over the horizon, but not yet descending below - not quite time for the moon to take over.

Back in the early '70s, around 1973 (since I was about 3 at the time), my dad had that floppy hairstyle and thick '70s glasses.

Here's a perfect example of his glasses and hairstyle from the early '70s:

(This photo was from a different occasion, by the way, and not from my first memory.)

Anyway, we were all outside. And there were these tall cigar-shaped trees right up on one side of the house (the trees are similar to the ones in the photo above, but those aren't the exact trees I'm talking about). Something had attracted my attention over there by the trees, so I went over there to check it out. Because 3-year-olds HAVE to check out everything, right?

Lo and behold, a baby bird was on the ground squawking. I must've told somebody, I don't remember who, though. The next thing I know, my dad had gotten a tall ladder and was climbing up. There was a crowd around the ladder, as everyone watched him. I stood a ways back, just observing. And he put that baby bird back in the nest.

And that was that. I don't remember how that baby bird was afterward, after it had gotten back to its nest. I don't remember giving it another thought . . . as few 3-year-olds probably would. That is, until years later, when one thing or another made me think of that evening.

Okay, this is their house on Mountain Walk Drive, not the house from this particular memory. I'm posting it so you can see the tall cigar-shaped trees by the fence. These are the trees they had near one wall of the house. It's the kind of tree where that bird nest was. Check it out:

Please click on the box for the rest of this week's "Memory Lane Friday" posts: