I can clearly remember being bathed in the sink by my dear departed mum, picking up the yellow jug used for washing my hair and tipping water out etc. It still seems clear to me. My hair has gone but the jug still sits on my dad's kitchen windowsill.
I can recall standing on plastic piano to reach the light switch in my bedroom only for the piano to break before I could click the button and I also remember being sat crossed legged in front of a black and white TV while my cousin was carried into the room as a babe in arms by my aunt. He's 43 on Saturday.