This month my 3-year-old grandnephew, Wyatt, took his first airplane ride. What’s more, he was chosen to visit with the pilot and co-pilot, and he even got to sit in the cockpit in the pilot’s seat.
My sister sent my mom and me the pictures of the occasion. In addition to remarking how stinking cute her great-grandson is, my mom wondered if he will remember this experience. She hoped so.
It got me to thinking about my earliest memory, which is of my mom and me on the living room couch. She was hugging me. It was more a memory of the senses.