I'm two or possibly three. I am in my toddler size crib in the nursery room on Irving Place. (White, wooden, with pink and blue animals. The lights are off, but the door is open to the hall. The hall light is glowing white and round. I am standing in the crib, in footy pajama's (or a flannel night gown?...no, gotta be the footies). I am holding one of my ginghies (gingham dog) by the ear and swinging it in circles while calling "Luna! Luna!" Then my mother, in a nightgown, appears in the doorway.

I don't know why this memory is signifacnt, or if it is at all. I don't know why I was saying "Luna" as I didn't grow up speaking spanish. I do know, however, that it is a memory that has stuck with me in great detail through the years, and that it always gives me a pleasant feeling. Many of my early memories are like that. Specific, yet non-specific. Just a moment in time that has crystalized and remains a source of happiness.