My Earliest Memory

My earliest memory is very clear to me. At the time my family was living in our house in Shelton, Washington, before we moved here to Olympia. I must have been around two-years-old because I was still sleeping in a crib. When I was little, I never wanted to go to sleep without holding onto my mom or dad's hand and rubbing their fingers. It sounds weird now, but it was a huge comfort to me. In fact, my sleeping habits got so bad that my parents would keep a pillow under my bed. Every night one of my parents would lay on the floor with their pillow and stick one of their hands through the bars of my crib until I fell asleep.

I can remember my very first memory like it was yesterday. I am laying in my crib. The crib was white and had small blue and pink teddy bears on the sheets. I sat up and looked through the bars of the crib and saw my mom on the ground sleeping. This is the earliest memory of mine, and it is very special to me because it shows how much my parents love me, even if that means staying up late holding my hand and sleeping on the ground. I'm glad that I have this as my earliest memory because at least my parents will know that all that time staying up with me has been remembered and appreciated.