what it’s like.

When someone asks you where you grew up, you immediately begin to think about memories from your childhood.  I remember riding the bus to school for a couple hours every morning, as we were at the beginning of the bus route.  I remember watching the group of Indians set up their Teepee’s in the cornfield across the street from our house.  I remember riding my bike to McDonald’s the first day it was open, to be among the very first customers.  I remember working at the “Can Return” counter of the grocery store, sorting cans and bottles by their brand, and getting pop/beer all over my arms doing it…ew..:)  These are all just a few of the cool things I remember about growing up in Mid-Michigan, born in 1981.

So I was thinking recently, that all of these things we’re doing as a family, could possibly end up as defining moments they remember as they recount their “growing up” to others someday.  As their first room mate in college asks them, laying on their bunks, getting to know each other…”So what was it like growing up?”

I realize the time and energy we put into creating family moments and memories may not actually accomplish them being cemented in memory and heart forever.  They may remember the small, seemingly insignificant moments where daddy sat on the floor playing “Pretty Pretty Princess”, or when mommy helped do their hair up in a bun for ballet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But it’s also possible…they’ll remember that almost every year we went to the Illinois State Fair.  That daddy drove the bus for the “Seniors” from our church for Senior Day, and usually took the family along.  That Grandpa and Grandma usually came with too, which meant they got to ride the ponies!!  That there was a life-size cow completely sculpted out of butter, aptly named the “Butter Cow”.  That they actually got to MILK a real cow, and watch that stream of white squirt out when they squeezed, just like they’d read about in “Ma and Pa” (Little House on the Prarie)  That while our oldest was chewing her corn-dog, she realized her very first tooth was loose!!  And this year, we were able to randomly feed a baby camel as well…which was the highlight of MY day! (mommy enjoyed it too, but yanked her hand back so fast it disappeared on camera. 🙂

Remembering that these moments may stick with them, not just as memories but as “this is what it was like…”, certainly makes me want to breathe slower in the midst of them.  Pray through them.  Speak words of love and hope into these moments.  Because these same moments, also have potential for me to recount someday as my grandkids ask me, “What was mommy like when she was my age?”
But I’m probably thinking too far ahead….:)

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2 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Brady on August 27, 2012 at 1:17 pm

    I was having a similar thought path to this the other night. I was riding with Elizabeth’s parents back from dropping off their son at ONU and they were recounting stories of being younger and doing things with their young family. It was fun to hear and see the excitement on their faces as they recalled vivid details and images. It makes me look forward to making memories not only future children will remember, but also ones Elizabeth and I can hold close for years to come.

    Reply

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