I used to say “I’ll always remember…..” or “I’ll never forget…..”
I don’t anymore.
Not since I watched as Alzheimer’s Disease tore away page after page of memories for someone I loved, slowly at first it seemed and then more quickly. She covered well; I’m not sure how many could pinpoint what was going on exactly. She was great at asking questions that you could ask over and over and it not seem very odd. “Seen any good movies lately?” “How’s the weather been back home?” and so on.
And so I tuck away precious moments into my memory bank, and sometimes I wrote about them here, in the hopes that they will always be there for me.
But I know they may not.
Today was just such a day, one that I’d like to always remember. I have snapshots in my mind of sweet moments that I want to keep.
- Our Princess and her friends have been having a great time with the sand and water table on the back deck. I originally got it thinking that Cooter and his friends would enjoy it more. But his two buddies moved, and the girls have taken it over. They flood the water side, and they pour just enough into the sand to make it the consistency of a nice “scrub.” They are playing spa, y’all. There are two chairs on one side–one for the person being served and the second for the next in line. The other side has one chair that is rarely sat in, as the person giving the spa treatment is very busy. They spread mud–ahem, excuse me, scrub–all over their feet and then rinse them a few minutes later. They don’t know that I’m aware, I was peeking out of my bedroom window at this hustle and bustle of activity. It was so wonderful to see their imaginations blossoming in a way that I never would have thought of. It amazes me, especially since over the past few weeks it’s been a Ninja School back there, and our Princess was the instructor. I just love it. Who needs a pool when you have a SPA in your backyard? Never mind, please don’t ask my children that. I know what they will answer. (We do.)
- Cooter rode off on his bicycle with his Daddy and Miss Sophie for her evening constitutional. I stopped and watched as he rode up the street. And it occurred to me–I never tire of watching him ride his bike. He is so graceful and smooth as his little legs pump the pedals and his hair flies out behind him. And he always smiles the biggest smiles. He LOVES his bicycle. (Has it really already been seven months since he gave up the training wheels?) I nodded as I thought to myself, I could sit and watch him and his joy and movement for hours on end and never lose interest. And then I was thankful that I feel that way. In the busy-ness of life, it is so easy to get distracted. But not when my baby boy’s making the wheels go round and round. That’s good stuff right there.
- I have been doing some cleaning and organizing and culling around here. (That’s right, I said culling. I will pause for a moment so those of you who know me and my tendencies NOT to cull can catch your breath.)
- As I mentioned, cleaning up. Straightening up. And so on. I found a basket with a couple of devices and several cords all tangled up. *sigh* That’s about par for the course around here. As I started to untangle by grabbing the larger “outlet plug” end first, I soon became frustrated with how hard it was to push that big end through the knots of cords to disentangle. And then it occurred to me to try the other end first. To take the tiny little end, the one that plugs into a device, and work it through the knots. So much easier. So much quicker. And the gravity pull on the heavier end helped me figure out how to work through the knots. Win! As I disentangled cords in record time, it hit me that this is probably a lesson for life. To work through situations that are such a mess, maybe it would be easier and make more sense if I start with the small bits first. Don’t dive in and tackle the biggest part of the problem first. Take it slow and easy and work through it. And the answer will present itself a little quicker. I don’t know, maybe a stretch, but it was worth pondering over anyway.
Tonight I’m thankful for a napless day–and it’s not often you’ll hear me say those words. I had the energy and the drive and the patience to make some things happen around here, interspersed with moments I hope to treasure for a long, long time. Thankful for all of that. It was a day of one thing leading me to another room where I saw something else that needed doing, started on it until it led me to something else. And yet, somehow, a few things got done. And I’m very thankful for that.
May your day be filled with moments to treasure and easily untangled “cords.” Love to all.