Thursday September 15, 2011
As I wrote about my dad on Tuesday, the simple pleasure of memories just washed over me.
I heard from all my boys that night, and one said, “I know you didn’t have room, Mom, but there was SO much more you could say about Grandaddy! How he’d distract us at the table and steal stuff off our plates, how he could peel an apple with his pocketknife in one long peel…” And he went on and on.
I can close my eyes and see the day he ran alongside my bike after taking off my training wheels. I remember my wedding day, my college graduation—his pride.
And not just Dad. When you have four sons, there are so many memories. Funny ones, poignant moments, even scary ones. Thirty some years of marriage has yielded some wonderful memory moments, too.
They’re not all perfect memories, but they’re fraught with love and lessons, and I’m thankful for them. A simple pleasure they are.
Linking up today with Dayle for Simple Pleasures.