My earliest memory I have was going to meet my brother in the hospital after he was born.
I’m not sure how many days old he was, but I was about 2 years and 8 months old. I remember my grandparent’s driving me to the hospital on a sunny morning. I also remember the car we were in. It was my grandpa’s blue WB Statesman. We parked by the clay tennis courts next to the hospital. He was wrapped in a pastel receiving blanket and a nurse gave me two jelly beans for being a good girl.
I’ve only recently found out that that blanket was a receiving blanket. My brother had one exactly the same growing up. I had no reason to believe it was a different one to that in the photo.
The clay tennis courts are still next to that hospital. I was also born at that hospital. My mother has been working at that hospital for over 30 years now. And 29 years after I was born, I gave birth to my daughter at the very same hospital.
But apart from meeting my brother, I don’t have very many early memories. Certainly, none of them come to mind before I started primary school. From there, a few more memories start to build up in my mind.
I do think it’s a great first memory to have. I know we shared lots of fun times growing up. From camping in the backyard to bullying him into doing silly things just to make me laugh. And of course, he pretty much always did what I asked. But I suppose he was just keen to gain my respect. I don’t feel guilty about it one bit. But I do love to bring it up with him occasionally. You know, just for a laugh.
