What is the oldest memory you have? . . .How far back can you remember?

About four or five. I noticed my two older brothers were getting nice bikes for Christmas and I got Mickey Mouse toys. I couldn’t understand why I got lesser and cheaper gifts.

I was a middle child, so as I got older, the younger one got better (Easy Bake Ovens), cool games and my stuff was bland books and clothes. That’s okay, I have better stuff than them now.

Being the middle kid sucked though.

Less than a year old. Twin sis and me laying down in pram with hoods up. Me ad sis facing each other. Heard mum talking to an old lady, I could see her through gap between hoods. Dark coat, black hat, thin old face. Mum opened hoods saw her clearly, remember we was on the corner of our street, pram facing 2 storey flats opposite. Don't remember hoods closing or anything else. Remember above as clear as if it happened today.

Another disturbing one for tomorrow, bed now...

I was just having that conversation in real life with my mom, telling her, AGAIN, that was why I cried so horribly.

I was continuously reliving the last hour or so of a previous life.
It was pure horror.

I bet I entered a few posts here over the last 2 decades about it.

I'll go look...I was an AC only until recently.

i remember crawling on the floor before i could walk.
it is just a fleeting and very vague memory.

Around 3 years old I remember sitting on the fence and flipping off burn for our who was walking down the road with a gas can and I remember breaking my pop gun over my sister's head

Continuous memory from three years old. Flashes of memory before that.

I can remember being three years old. I was aware that I was three. My dad liked to introduce me to people, and he ask me to tell them how old I was. I was a bit on the bashful side, I guess, so I'd hold up three fingers. I can't recall being aware of being two years old. I'm not sure I was fully aware of what the concept of "being a certain age" meant, even when I held up the three fingers.

The first date of which I was cognizant was November 22, 1963. Surely I had some grasp of the rhythm of days and weeks and months before that, but on the afternoon of November 22, I knew something big was going on, and I'd better behave, because the grown-ups weren't going to be tolerant of a kid's constant stream of questions. Among other things, I wanted to know what "assassinate" meant. But I couldn't ask, partly because of the grown-ups being upset about something and partly because I knew to be careful using a word with "ass" in it.

Five weeks later, I somehow managed to stay up 'til midnight on New Year's Eve. I didn't handle it well when I realized 1963 was now over and done. Borderline hysteria. They told me 1963 hadn't been a good year, no matter how much I'd liked it, and 1964 was certain to be better.

I have glimpses of memories of when I was 1, going to 2 different aunts houses that were moving to tell them bye. I only remember being carried to their door and them opening it each time. At 18 months I was in the hospital. I have several memories of that.

I walked at 9 months and so did my daughter.

I was so young that I don’t know how old I was. I turned two in Ecuador and I remember the lady who brought us fresh pita bread when we lived there. I remember learning Spanish from her and speaking Spanish with my older brother. I remember visiting my grandparents when we returned to the states from Ecuador and my mom telling me to speak Spanish for my grandparents and I remember telling her no. I turned three in Utah and remember visiting a dinosaur state park gift shop and picking out a pink stuffed dinosaur. I still have that dinosaur. (I’m 53 now.) I remember our trailer and dirt yard and swing set in Utah. Then we moved to Tehran, Iran. I had my fourth and my fifth birthdays there. I got a bunny rabbit cake for my fourth birthday. My mom’s best friend taught me how to tie my shoes, and how to write the English alphabet. We had a driver/male chaperone named Abrahim, he taught me how to write to ten in Farsi. I got a “Barbie” in a dress cake for my 5th birthday. I wasn’t very impressed with it. I liked the rabbit cake better. The Shah was still in power and the Ayatola Khomeini was trying to take over. Us kids made fun of his name and called him a “Meanie Khomeanie”. There was a few nights of fires and people jumping over the fires, there was dancing and screaming. My parents told me it was the way they celebrated New Year there. I believed them then, not sure I do now. There was an explosion outside my house one night while we were having dinner. I was eating a piece of cheese. My dad went outside to see what happened. He said a gas station blew up down the road. We moved back to the US for a few months after that. Then we moved to the Canary Islands. I had my 6th birthday there. My dad worked in Nigeria and we lived on Gran Canaria.

I have always remembered a lot. It’s finally starting to be less clear in my mind. I used to be able to visualize the memories. Now it’s more like I just know them because I remember knowing them, if that makes sense.

2 1/2 or so.

1989 World Series

18 mos. My dad let me drink the last of his beer out of his bottle. He also mixed paint in those same bottles. I drank a load of red paint. Had to have my stomach pumped. Was really awful for my mom.

3 years old

Telling an adult neighbor "I don't care sugar bear".

My first "whoopin".

I remember I was crying and when my mom came out of the house soon after, she asked me what I said: "I don't care sugar bear".

Mom then said, "GOOD!" and then thanked the neighbor.

Glad I had that lesson at such an early age.

I can remember my birth … I didn’t want to be born because I was so comfortable in the womb … then I saw a bright light and fwoosh I was ejected out into the delivery room … no joking … I actually remember my birth …

Late 2 to early 3.

I fell off my mother's bed and cut my lip when I was 24 months old. Left a small scar.

I was a newborn. My dad came into the room and my mom was holding me in her arms. They say babies can only see inches away after birth, but I saw my dad look at me, smile, and said, "Hi babe." Honest to God, I remember this, and exactly what I was thinking when I saw him for the first time. I knew he was my dad, and I was surprised what he looked like, as he did not look like what I thought he was going to look like.

When I got picked up by the cops when I was two years old for running away.

I remember driving myself to the hospital when my mother was in labor with me.

About 1949. I remember playing in my back yard. I remember lots of events from those days.

Very vivid memories of Christmas when I was 3 years and 3 months old. What I was wearing, bending over to open the wrapping paper covered box, pulling out the stuffed rabbit.

Never before had I been given an actual wrapped present. Rabbit was from my uncle.

Around 4 I guess.





or 12




something like that.

Under 1 yr old, being held by my grandad as a baby, and I distinctly remember noticing his hairy arms and pulling on his hairs, and I remember him saying, " he's pulling my hairs, stop pulling my hairs" in a joking way. He died before I was 1 yrs old. Anyway the odd thing about it is I could understand what they were saying even though I couldn't yet speak. Anyway that was my first conscious memory, almost as if it was when my sentience first emerged or began or spawned in.. depending on how it works. The memory was visual and auditory and has always stayed with me as my first memory.

Remember being out in the yard and the Whippoorwill bird singing its song and my Grandmother telling me if I am not good she will let the Whippoorwill bird whoop my butt.
I was no more than three probably 2-1/2. I remember the house and how it looked as we had no running water or electricity. 1952

One vivid memory I was 4 and a younger brother 1 we where dropped off at a Daycare-Orphanage in SC we were there for 29 days before my mother showed up saying she found me as the man she was married too had abandon yes. Not my father and no I have no idea what my real father name is or anything about him. Last time I saw that man was when I was just turning 6 at the State Prison in SC. Of course I hadn't seen him since we were abandon. I only know how long as I ask when I was old enough to understand from my Grandmother.
I found out later that on day 30 they consider you abandon and turn you over to the state. When this went down of course as a 4 year old you don't know grownup stuff.

Last Edited by Tenty on 01/27/2023 07:41 PM

Born Jan.31,1938,Pearl Harbor,age 3 years,2 months.

2 or 3 years old, birthday, preschool events, riding on a little seat at the back of my dad's 10 speed, getting my little car for Christmas at barely 3.

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I like to hear stories about people who remember before they were born or remember being born, really interesting. Same with NDE stories. I have researched so much that sometimes it is a burden, too much knowledge is not always a good thing.


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Also remember crawling out of my crib.

I do not remember being born. earliest memory I would say maybe 3 years old Mom and dad having a fight. Locked in a room I believe was a bathroom not sure didn't bust in but that shining scene haunts me to this day. The second is being given a quarter to rub my uncles feet. Didn't know how gross that was till years later. Third was about 5 years old given Crisco saying it was vanilla ice cream and took pictures of it was not funny!

You remember how awful people are the rest of your life and do your best not to emulate them tough sometimes I see a harmless joke you can make but stop short of doing it.