Sweating The Small Stuff

This morning, I wrote down the first memories that came to mind about each of my parents.  Here they are:

Dad

  • Making a little fire by the side of a fishing stream so I could dry my boots after falling in the river.
  • Taking eight-year-old me backpacking with my teenage cousins and bragging that I caught the biggest fish.
  • Tying ropes around my sister and my waists and letting us scoot down a steep hill and laughing while pulling us back up.
  • Letting me drive the car around in a horse pasture on Mother’s day and not getting angry when I scraped an old heap of farm equipment in the middle of the field.


Grilled Ham and Cheese Sandwich

Mom 

  • Taking us to the lake with a big cooler of sandwiches and drinks.
  • Serving as my Girl Scout leader, sporting a kelly green, polyester pantsuit.
  • Showing me how to mix up a very smelly fish solution to pour on her beautiful backyard flowers.
  • Making me grilled cheese sandwiches when I occasionally came home from school for lunch

So, there you have it, not very earth shattering.  But, those simple memories bring tears to my eyes.  I guess the small stuff really matters to kids.  I wonder what my kids will remember about me?

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5 thoughts on “Sweating The Small Stuff

  1. I don’t have any memories of my father. Or rather, I don’t have any nice memories of my father. My mum left him when I was five and I didn’t see him again for twenty-seven years. I spent my childhood thinking I’d done something wrong, for him to never want to see me again.

    This was a lovely post to read. I’m glad you have such beautiful memories of your parents. 🙂

    • Sigh, this breaks my heart. Parents so often underestimate their value to their children. I’m glad every day is a new day – another chance to do things right. Have a blessed day.

      • I think, with my dad, there was a disinclination to be responsible for us. He associated my sister and I with spending money and owing us ‘stuff’. I remember when I’d have given my right arm to just spend time with him. I didn’t want anything from him at all, except his attention. He died last year. It left me with mixed feelings, and a disinclination to cry, which saddens me.

        You have a blessed day too. I’m glad I found your blog. 🙂

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