My memories are not like other people's. I do not remember "when I was little" in chronological order. The people I saw every day, the things I did each week - they are simply not there. My memories are more like a scrapbook. Snap-shot moments placed at random. Some of them I know were special moments, others I am clueless as to their significance in my mind. Sometimes, I cannot even remember events I know now were milestone events. Who knows why this is?
I do know, however, that I treasure those moments I have. They are all special to me, now.
Like the time I was in my room, at night, and daddy brought little Ben in and put him in the crib at the foot of my bed. I still don't know why he was in there - ours was the girls room - but he was. For a moment after daddy left, Ben stood at the end of the crib closest to the door, and mournfully marked daddy's departure. I squirmed out from the covers, crawled down to the foot of my bed, and leaned over the crib, stretching out both my arms.
"Ben, you wanna do this?" (apparently a code word, or tradition)
Ben turned and walking on tiptoe to my end of the crib, replied, "I do, I do, I do!"
We grabbed each other's hands and just stood there, perfectly content.
And that's the end of the memory.
(a memory I love)
Posting now, to avoid the temptation.
What are some of your treasured memories? Do you remember moments, or seasons of your life?