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