The brown paper bag is clutched in my hand until the top is wrinkled like the skin of an old lady.
Inside the bag, the prized can I carefully selected waits, wrapped in tin foil to keep in the cold. But always it explodes pink frothy warm.
A drawing in ballpoint pen decorates the front of the bag. Today it is of the replica historical village we visit, where we learn about survival before they had yellow school buses and black cherry soda.
I was the only one with such a drawing, as I was each time our class went on a field trip.
Love from Mom. Love. The word I didn't hear. Maybe this was proof?
Special, for once. Me.
Only she does not remember now, this thing, so profound.
I prompt: Were you bored? Did you want me to know you were thinking of me?
She said she didn't know. She'd ponder, get back to me.
So I wonder, will my kids call one quiet afternoon, grown up, and ask, Do you remember?
I want to. I want to.
What will stay with them? Not the manufactured memories of trips to SeaWorld and Princess birthday parties we try so hard to give them.
Small moments.
When they knew they were truly seen.
When they knew they were loved.
Ballpoint pen on a paper bag.
19 comments:
Bahahahahaha unplug my computer!!! I always knew you were a bad ass Cheryl!! :-D I love this post, just had the same discussion over at Motpg....it IS the little things....
:-D
I love that it is those really small moments that make the biggest impact and end up mattering the most. Great post!
Nice one!...little things make big impacts and its true with this memory post.
We never know what they will remember, do we?
...makes me want to go do something special for my kiddos - something just to say "You're special."
Found you via Momalom...
I do things like that in the hopes that some day my kids will say that, too. "Remember when?"
Or better yet, now, "When I have a baby, that's what I am going to do."
That was beautiful! I like to think it's those small moments that matter.
Thanks for stopping by my SITS day on Monday!
It definitely is in the small moments of the every day, when we're not even really trying.
That was beautiful! Made me tear up a little. That's probably one reason why we blog - so we can always remember the special little things:)
Mayor - Yes. I'll unplug it - you've been warned! ;)
Michele - Thanks! Things that don't mean much to us could really be impacting those around us.
Anto - Thanks!
Jill - I'm also thinking, "what can I do to make them feel special today?"
Natalie - I definitely to do more of that.
C - Yes, and I also wonder if I'm doing damage when I'm not paying attention..
Pamela - Aww...thanks!
Shell - Thank you for taking the time to stop by!
Absolutely beautiful Cheryl. I love this one. I've also asked myself the same question, what *will* their small moments be?
Those little things really are the most important. They make up our childhood, and who we are. Blogging has actually helped me stop and pay attention to the little things, and to record them.
What a sweet gesture :) Tiny details that make up a whole love of loving!
Wow. You wrote this so beautifully! Very powerful : ) And so true. Little things DO matter.
This is beautiful (and sad) Cheryl. I hope I remember, too!
I've had the same experience with my parents - things that loom huge in my memory that they don't remember at all. I imagine it will be that way with my own kids, too. But maybe the fact that we remember the things is enough?
I have no idea what my kids will remember. None at all. Mostly because I can't figure out why I remember the stuff I do, and not the other stuff. (Or why I define my childhood by a particular set of memories, and not others.)
I hope that whatever they remember, whatever meant the most to them, I'll remember too, and know why. Why we did things that way, why we made those choices. But will I really remember? No idea. None whatsoever. Not even a little.
I love this post.
It's true, we have no idea what will be the things that stand out for our kids. I hope that it is that my face lights up every time they walk into the room.
The brown paper bag thing is making me smile. My mum always made a way too healthy lunch for me growing up. That was one of her many ways of showing that she loved me.
When I was in my early twenties, I moved in with my Dad for a brief time. He started making me brown bag lunches to take to work. Wrote my name on the front and everything. It was so awesome.
Thank you for bringing the memory back.
Ah so wonderful. This really made my heart smile!
We never do know. And so we try to create memories everywhere. Every day. Big and small. Because one day, one day our kids will surprise us and ask about something THEY remember that we hoped they would. And then? We will find that we don't. So so true, Cheryl.
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