Infantile amnesia

What happened before i woke up to this moment?

I woke up one afternoon and I was in a playground, playing with kids I have never seen before, I was 4 years old. Right at that moment, it had seemed like I opened my eyes to the world for the first time. Everything I saw and heard, sounded and seemed unfamiliar to me. It was like it was my first time to see soil, people, trees, goats, chickens, houses,rocks, toys, ball. I marveled with wonder as I jumped up and down, circled and observe the new world before my eyes. The skies were blue, the sun shone bright, birds singing with their melodious harmonic voices. I was breathing air for the first time. How did I get in here? Who were these little people i was playing with? Did we come here at the same time? What are these things we have on our bodies? And why is the grass green? Then suddenly humans taller than us appeared from nowhere. They made strange noises. What language was that? It was definitely different from the language I spoke with my tiny pals . I can guarantee you that it was my first time seeing these people but yet when they called us with strange names, I stood up and knew where to go. It was amazing how we responded and went to our respective big humans. My human was tall,thin,she had long hair and was wearing interesting things on her body similar to mine. It must be culture, I assumed. She called me playfully, making funny faces, smiling to me, I just held her hand confused, trying to make sense of everything. What was the purpose of that? And why I seemed happy and giddy to see this human I had only met today. And how on earth did I know that was my name? Everything that happened from the moment I opened my eyes up to now, was beyond my understanding. You know how people say it's not rocket science to make people think something is simple to understand, well to me it was. No amount of explanation could answer all the questions I had that day. When I got home, more and more people called me with a similar name. They all seemed to know me yet I could swear if that's allowed, a thousand times that day was my first time to see a human or anything of this world. Despite all that sudden wake-ness, the names and some routines seemed to be a part of me.How did I know these things yet I didn't have them registered to memory. My memory was like a blank disk or flash drive that has just been bought, not a single file in sight. As I grew, I never let go of that day. I wanted to know what happened before that moment I opened my eyes to the world for the first time. How did babies come into this world? Was that how babies came to the world? Were babies dropped from the sky to a huge play ground and humans who wanted babies came there to pick their favorite? If that was the case I was the luckiest in the world because I loved my human who picked me up at the play ground. I formed theories about what might have led to that moment. The more I thought about it, the more I became lost. No one ever told me the exact events which led to the playground. My cousins told myths about where babies came from. The more people I asked, the more I realized none of it was true because all their stories were different. As I made more sense of the world, my head started to ache with questions about that moment. Sadly, I was the youngest in our family for a very long time, I never got disprove or approve the theories I had in hand. But each day my curiosity became like an unsatisfied food craving. My cousins grew tired of my questions and avoided me at all costs. Like if they saw me coming their way, they would go to an extent of doing chores in the middle of the day when the sun is hot and everybody is resting just to seem busy to avoid answering my questions. One day I gathered courage and asked my grandmother. Instead of asking where babies came from, I approached the question differently, I asked if I came to this world when I was 4. She laughed hysterically. I have never seen her laugh that hard my entire life, also a first. She sent me inside the house to get an old photo album. We sat down and looked at the old pictures. My grandmother pointed to a very tiny toddler, a reminder I had never seen such a small human before, she said it was me. She told me wonderful stories about what happened before I was four. From the places I stayed at, to the things I did. I point black denied myself. That couldn't had been true. It wasn't a happy denial that one said surprised when they see a baby picture of themselves, it was an angry and confused type of denial.My grandmother got confused and asked me why I was getting angry. Well, I was confused and surprised too, where was this anger coming from? I got up and told her, as tiny as I was, that nothing in this world made sense. Ever since I opened my eyes when I was four, I have been asking questions and nobody wants to answer my questions. If that small person I saw on the photo was me, how come I didn't remember that moment? Why did it seem as if I opened my eyes to the world when I was four? Why did it seem to me that my world began when I was four? What happened when I was 1,3, 2 ? Were my eyes closed this whole time? What else happened before that moment? What else did I miss? How come none of it  is registered to my memory? It seems to me I have missed something important before that, I can feel it but it's not part of my memories.
I had no idea I had so many questions buried within me. All these were coming out of a mouth of a 6 year old. At first my grandma was laughing because she thought the questions were funny especially from a tiny person.
But the last questions hit her hard. I saw her bow her head with eyes closed, as if to say a little prayer. She said calmly to me:
"When we are born, our families devote time and effort to make sure they make the world around us as colorful as they could,some go to the extend of speaking to us before we are born with hope those things will be part of our earliest memories. Although those things become part of us, they don't always stay in our memories. The things we remember later when we are older are the words of song and procedural tasks, we don't have them in memory for easy access but they are in our subconscious mind, a part of us which only reveals its self when we are not thinking. It's normal for everyone to accept this part of life as it is and nobody ever makes a big deal out of  this but you I understand. You have the right to be angry about it because the special moments you had with one of the most important person in your life happened at that stage. The worst thing is those moments can never be recreated or ever be recovered. It's a huge loss no one has to experience. I can tell you how much fun you had with him but to you it will only be words because no matter how much you try, you can never reconnect with those memories. I can tell you your relationship was the most cherished in neighborhood but you can never be able to bring yourself close to that moment because none of it was registered. All it is to you it's just words of things which are said you were part of and all you can do is borrow a scenario and attach those words to make it life like experience. Know this you had the best times together. I was hoping those moments will stick with you until lifetime, but when you finally make sense of the world the first time it's like you are just coming to the world, opening your eyes for the first time, everything seems like your first, anything before that is discarded. I don't think it's fair, but always know this, your subconscious mind will always have everything about you, that has or has not yet happened, as long as it is part of you; your father's love, moments you had, your first everything. You might not access it as part of your memory but it will always be part of you forever,"

I was left horrified without words. I was asking all these questions about the world when it was actually my subconscious mind trying to remind me and inquire more about my dad this whole time.
As I grew, the more I heard  stories  about my dad and me. How we were inseparable. How he would tell people I was joined to his hip. How he would say he would go an extra mile to see me smile everyday. I was his little girl. Spoiled, my mom would say. Everyone said I looked like him. My mom didn't keep a single picture of him, the closest I have seen of him was looking  myself at the mirror.
I wish I could have memories of moments I had with my him. But every time when I close my eyes to go past the moment at the playground I hit a blank black screen. I want to feel the connection described to me in the stories. How can I not remember the most important part of my life? The only chance and last memories I had with him. How could all fade away just like that? Before I made sense of the world. How can I go beyond that moment I gained consciousness of the world and see myself fly in the air and back into his safe hands? How do I speak about him when I can't form  mental picture of him? When all I have to rely to is to attach words to some borrowed scenarios. I am a memory geek, I can memorize a sequence of thousand of numbers yet when I try to go back in time my brain feels like a wiped out computer. How do I fill this void? Hope my subconscious mind will one day flash the times in a dream?

Infantile amnesia robbed me the best mental picture I could have had.