Such an intriguing question, SW! I've been thinking about it, and I'm afraid all I could come up with would be a series of vignettes. I have lots of vivid memories, but very little sense of continuity.
My earliest memory is from around age 3, when we were stationed in Germany: I was standing in the bathroom, watching my mother put on makeup. She was singing to herself, a sweet little tune that had been their theme song for the radio show my parents did for awhile just after WWII. I liked it, and I asked her to teach me the song.
She bent down and sang me the first line, then had me sing it back to her, and on like that through the song... and then she asked me to sing the whole thing for her. I didn't think I could, but I tried, and sure enough, I got through it -- and my mother was so excited! She led me out to the living room to sing it for my father, and they made such a fuss over me!
And last year, my brother and I sang that song at my father's funeral... it just seemed so right:Highways are happy ways
When they lead the way to home
Highways bring happy days
To the weary hearts that roam
And when you travel
Along the ribbons of grey
They all unravel
And lead you homeward to stay
Highways are happy ways
When they lead the way to home.