The Beginning of Reality

La Persistencia de  la Memoria

The earliest memory I have is of being carted around Houston Airport. I was approximately a year old; my family rushed to board one of the final flights from Texas to Massachusetts before a hurricane hit. At a year old, I should not have had a functioning memory, but so it goes. I recall the sense of panic while stained ceiling tiles passed overhead; some unknown force pushed me to Logan.

Memory typically begins around one's third year of life. Some cannot remember even later as they age, resulting in a full decade or more lost. My first memory is one of panicked desperation. This tainted my reality for decades, but I am training my brain to be less reactionary/panic-stricken.