My parents have been dead for years now and yet I find them still alive and active in my head. Of course, my grandparents are in there, too. And, yes, I am curious about their own early memories of all four of them. I never knew my paternal grandparents at all. They died before I was born.
I guess research tends to find our earliest memories go back to about age 2 ½ but I suspect that feelings of what's right, what I lack, where I shine are more with me than feelings or facts of actual events or speech. I am interested in the acts of speaking and writing but it occurs to me that I never seem to have received much written communication from my parents.
There were many times as a boy and as a man, that I disagreed with directives or principles of conduct they supported. I tended to be an independent thinker and I was and am often motivated by attempts to assist, cheer or obtain admiration. As a kindergartener, I thought walking back to school after lunch at home would be nicer and more impressive if I donned a pre-tied necktie. Neckties are decorative and more formal, right? I ignored the fact that I was wearing a "jersey", an upscale t-shirt, whose low collar is not usually worn with a little necktie. That sort of collar shows the metal clasp behind the neck, an outsized version of the tiny clasp of a high class necklace. This fashion innovation of mine was sufficiently provocative that my teacher phoned my mother to let her know about my sartorial advances. In this case, I had in fact "improved" my dress without checking with my mom. I was a big boy and didn't need mothering and such.
I have found deep pleasure in libraries and books all my life. I remember the holiness and concentration and wonder I experienced when my mother took me to the imposing main Enoch Pratt library in downtown Baltimore to obtain my library card.
