July 21, 2020
I remember the blackberry picking excursions and mom’s silent prayers that we wouldn’t encounter a snake as we wound our way through briers and came home covered in deliciously staining blackberry juice. I remember the many times we walked acres of plowed sweet potato rows finding flint and quartz arrowheads, old marbles, and once an antique gold wedding band that sadly must have slipped off someone’s finger long ago. Every one of us creates and carries times like these. In our youth we often take them for granted, not realizing how quickly they pass. Days turn into years and while we never can put our finger on the exact moment, all at once we leave childhood forever and slip from youth into adulthood, and then before we know it, we can’t sit cross legged on the floor without a backache. This is usually when we begin to reflect and reminisce the “good old days.”
This weekend we had a family campout with grandparents, parents, cousins, and siblings. There’s no need to tell us that there had been a heat index advisory because we sweated every bit of it. As adults, the joy and excitement of making memories is still there, but anyone who has camped with kids knows just how much work it is. You need water and food and bedding and tents. But you also need smores and campfires and music and favorite stuffed animals. There’s a fine balance between becoming overwhelmed in the details and putting in just enough effort for things to run smoothly. This often looks different as the years go by. But it only takes one fretfully sleepless night to realize that the belovedly soft fox blankie named “Bowm” is just as essential as food and water.
Whether it’s the wrong words vowed at a wedding ceremony or a thunderstorm during a river tubing trip, often it’s the imperfections that we enjoy retelling the most. And it isn’t always the big events that impact us. Just the same, it can be the little things that add up to unforgettable memories.
Daily I watch my boys speed past on bikes wearing a football helmet and muddy boots with endless youthful energy. I watch them splash and play in our pool and then drape freely over a float enjoying a popsicle in the sun. I watch them run to check the garden and excitedly shout, “Mom, here’s a humongous squash!” I watch them outside playing with trucks in the dirt, making all kinds of motor sounds. I see how quickly it is passing. I know one day they will wake up an adult. But knowing all of these little things will become memories within them makes me cherish this time all the more.
The awareness of passing time makes us as adults view life a little differently. Admittedly we have likely given up the youthful spunk, but the mindset that we’ve already lived our best days is trifle for each day we live is tomorrow’s memory. No matter the age, we still have memories to make. This is why we camped out this weekend. It’s why we sweated through the tent setup and take down with heat advisories. It’s why Mamaw slept in a small tent with her grandbabies enjoying the stars and soaking in the moments. Every day is a good old day. Go make memories. Life is a beautiful blessing.
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