Earliest Memory

 I started an interesting book at 4:30 a.m. this morning -- actually, an interesting journey --  titled Writing from Within, by Bernard Selling.  It's a personal approach to writing that helps find your authentic writing voice, deal with your inner "critic," and recall childhood events and other important life experiences.

Phase One, in which Doris gets her oats! (Oops, different book.)

Actually, Exercise One is:  Finding Your Earliest Memories.

The first of three writing phases is Composing.  Start writing.  Don't critique.  Just plunge on.  Don't stop.  Here is my first draft:

"Shhhh!  Grandpa is sleeping!"

At just a little over 2 and a half years old, I was too young to know the difference between sleeping and dying.

I remember wanting to run around the bed and wake Grandpa Kuhn up.  Granny Kuhn, my Mom, and my Dad (I don't remember other adults in the shotgun house, but it's likely that there would have been adults coming and going) kept telling me to be please be quiet.

My next memory is being in a very strange room with odd lighting and overpowering floral smell.  I remember my Dad seemed different.  Sad.  He wanted me to sit still; I wanted to jump from the black block tiles to the white block tiles on the floor in front of where Grandpa was now sleeping.

I was too young to know the difference between sleeping and death.

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My Grandpa Kuhn died on March 9th, 1963.  I turned three in late April.

Carpe diem Life,
David Kuhn