Memory is defined as a recollection of experiences and feelings from your past. Some memories that seem quite real and tangible are actually just shimmers of a real memory and your mind fills the gaps with false memories. This concept ties in with a quote from Salvador Dali, "The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant".
One of my first memories is of my mother taking me to have my picture taken at the Martin House. I remember a scary-looking guy that kept handing me objects to hold, like an umbrella of a teddy bear. I recall feeling a little uneasy but more impatient than anything. This memory is important to me because it is one of my first memories occurring while I was just a toddler. Some people say they remember things as an infant but I find their stories a bit far fetched and I think I am lucky to remember something that happened to me at 3.
I share a memory with my step brother, Seth, of a time when we were little. As children Seth and I endured much punishment because we couldn't seem to keep ourselves out of mischief. As my mother would say, we conspired a great deal together. But one of the most memorable instances was when we got a lot of "ingredients" out of the kitchen and proceeded to empty them all out onto the middle of our floor and make this glob of who knows what. We continued to stir it as though we were great chefs using the "floor technique". Of course, we differ on who instigated the whole mess but in the end we were both in very big trouble.
A false memory that comes to mind is of my mother coming in to wake me up to tell me that we were going shopping that day and I needed to get up and take a shower. Well, I rose up and finished with making myself presentable and went to confront my mother as to why she was still asleep when she had woken me earlier.