A tired, sad pink balloon hangs in the hall.
The toddler book that chirps sits all alone on the desk.
The sippy cups are clean, dry and stacked in the cupboard.
We so enjoyed our little sixteen month old granddaughter last weekend.
I want to remember her babbling. And her shoulder dance.
And I want to remember how she imitates us. When we were talking through the door to her Daddy as he packed, she, too babbled to the door. Too funny.
And what a trooper. The loud whistles, hoots, yelling and air horns at uncle's graduation did not scare her. She so got into the clapping. And while other babies howled during the abysmal speeches, she was entertained by the contents of my niece's purse and antics of animated cousins.
I want to remember a little girl falling asleep in my arms. A little girl with wispy hair and fingers entwined in her favorite pink crocheted blanket.
When this little girl's Daddy was graduating from high school, my sister's little blonde daughter toddled around. Now that very same girl is almost ten years old, and hauled around our granddaughter or my brother's youngest little boy.
Four generations attended. Twenty of us? Wall to wall relatives, and stories, and laughter. And amazing growth and changes at our last hurrah. Some I had not seen since our 99 year old grandpa's funeral last August. And I doubt we will all be together again until the next graduation and commissioning...next May and June and August !
I think I will leave the little handprint on the mirror and where she gave the baby in the mirror a kiss...
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Amazing What Imprints a Memory
Four years ago, or was it five---we were researching sending our middle son to the local college. We had had the fun experience of our oldest son being accepted and attending a college three hours away. But, we had a perfectly good college right here in town. To save money, and enjoy this son as long as he'd let us, we hoped he would choose the local university.
Middle son also graduated early from high school, and his actual graduation service was held at the university because it was the biggest venew centrally located for all the early grads from the local high schools. And we were familiar with the campus from all city boys choir concerts and high school band competitions.
When we first met with the early entrance lady at the college, her office was in the same building as ROTC and we watched men and women in their physical training outfit---ARMY t-shirt, and shiny black trunks also emblazzened with ARMY--run by to class. It imprinted on me as something we might see a lot in the future. But, now after four years of ROTC, our middle son rarely wears this physical training uniform to class except in April. He wears it for the PT test and swim test. This morning, he also had a test, so he wore it to the test in chemistry.
Seeing him take off in his Army t-shirt and shorts took me back to when we were registering him for college, and looking at our options. And now we are about to see him graduate. For four years I have washed and folded his uniforms, and jeans and t-shirts, dress pants and dress shirts. And in one month, his laundry will no longer be mixed with ours. The end of an era.
Middle son also graduated early from high school, and his actual graduation service was held at the university because it was the biggest venew centrally located for all the early grads from the local high schools. And we were familiar with the campus from all city boys choir concerts and high school band competitions.
When we first met with the early entrance lady at the college, her office was in the same building as ROTC and we watched men and women in their physical training outfit---ARMY t-shirt, and shiny black trunks also emblazzened with ARMY--run by to class. It imprinted on me as something we might see a lot in the future. But, now after four years of ROTC, our middle son rarely wears this physical training uniform to class except in April. He wears it for the PT test and swim test. This morning, he also had a test, so he wore it to the test in chemistry.
Seeing him take off in his Army t-shirt and shorts took me back to when we were registering him for college, and looking at our options. And now we are about to see him graduate. For four years I have washed and folded his uniforms, and jeans and t-shirts, dress pants and dress shirts. And in one month, his laundry will no longer be mixed with ours. The end of an era.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Happy Birthday, Lauren !!!
Happy Birthday to YOU,
Happy Birthday to YOU,
Happy Birthday dear Lauren,
Happy Birthday to YOU !
Happy Birthday to YOU,
Happy Birthday dear Lauren,
Happy Birthday to YOU !
Walk Down Memory Lane
I asked my husband, Bob, to show me how to add a picture to my page. For twenty-five years now I have taken a picture of the boys on the first day of school just like that old Kodak commercial. I used to count seven rocks to the same spot to stand and try and capture the often reluctant-to-cooperate. A few of those pictures show the little guys in or by the double stroller. And at the end, the older one has flown the nest. Then youngest got his own place. Middle son graduates from college on Mother's Day this year. What a fitting day?! Our last month tied to a school or college schedule. We are weaning ourselves off of having to travel only when school is out. For twenty-five years we have had to know when is spring break. For twenty-five years we have been sensitive to exam days and lunch time schedules. Soon we will be free !
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