Just a sweet memory that popped up today <3
I am not exactly sure what prompted this memory as I was curling my hair for work this morning, but something did and thus…we will share it together as I remember it.
Our John was born on the Fourth of July just as the last of the celebrators were docking their boats and heading home following the fireworks at the lake.
Being the youngest of three with two older sisters and the ability to read at four years old, but unable to sit still until many years later, we held him out from Kindergarten the year he turned five.
Instead of attending the grade school alma mater of his sisters, he spent that year in a “Year to Grow” program at one of the Preschools. He attended with a couple of buddies who were also the youngest, also fully five and quick witted; but all needed a year to mature a tad more.
It was a good year and I was thankful for a little more time with our last child. His school year ended ahead of his sisters, so on his last day I picked him up and asked him what he would like to do to celebrate the end of school and beginning of summer break.
I offered some suggestions of things like the zoo or park, ice cream or a shake. He thought about it, as is it is his nature to think things through thoroughly. Can’t imagine where he gets that…
Finally he said he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to walk (not drive, walk) quite a few blocks from our house to a place where the road crossed over a portion of the nearby lake. He wanted to take bread and see if there were ducks to feed.
We grabbed a bag of bread slices and set off. For as long as we could, we threw pieces of bread on the water as we leaned on the guard rail of this stretch of road. It seemed a little more work intensive than a trip to Dairy Queen would have been and I am ever so grateful it was.
The walk there and back, the time at the bridge, the little blonde boy scampering around at my feet and chattering away is all a treasured memory. For me. I don’t even know if he remembers that day.
We have, on occasion, driven over that bridge to get to the far east side of town in recent years. Having moved from that area the following year I am always reminded of that day with him when we pass over the lake.
This morning the memory washed over me for some reason, unbidden, and all the emotions of change and life passing too quickly and the privilege of being mom to him and his sisters left me soppy and needing to touch up my makeup.
It’s happening again as I retell the story.
Life is made up of these kinds of moments, strewn together like a pearl necklace.
Each story is so small and yet, together, so beautiful.
I haven’t the need to ask him if he remembers that day. I remember enough for both of us.
Hope your day has some touches of the gift of sweet memories.