My First Memory
My very first memory that isn’t a learned memory is of my grandmother’s (Lucille) father. I had to be less than 3 years old. He, Frank Price, was a carpenter. He made the most wonderful furniture. My grandmother, mother, and many other family members still have the pieces that he made. He had this workshop behind his house in Sanford. My first memory takes place in that workshop. The kids always wanted to be with him and explore that workshop. I know that we weren’t really allowed to be in the workshop. Once he did take my sister and I into the workshop. There was a welcome mat of some kind right inside the door. He told us to stand on that mat and not to move. A few years ago we were talking about first memories and I mentioned this memory because for the longest time my first memory was of his funeral when I was three. I remember being in the church and seeing him in the coffin and my Aunt Donna taking care of me and my cousin Brandon. But this other memory is of him a