Grandpa, tell me ‘bout the good old’ days. From one of my favorite songs, performed by The Judds. A perfect song speaking of looking back to younger days. I have definitely been experience that, as of late.
I have been processing and archiving photos and manuscripts from my maternal family line. My thoughts are a constant blur of motion every time I see a photo of my brother, cousins, aunts, and uncles at my grandparents’ citrus farm. How young everyone looked…. how young I was! Geez! Where did the time go? While I may not remember every tiny detail, I will not likely forget the scent of the citrus trees, the leaves crunching under my feet, as we were walking in the woods or, the click click click of “Spider’s”, grandma’s Chihuahua, toenails as it would be running up and down the steps of their house. The reflections of cold winters with pot-bellied stoves providing heat or the perils of an outhouse, continues to bring happy, and even hilarious moments in time, back to the surface. Those memories are good for the soul.
The memory marathon didn’t end there, for me. Spending a nice evening with my cousin Becky, and her family, I’m looking at their kids and remembering my own godchildren at those ages, the youngest now having been out of high school for a year, at this point. There were some moments, last night, that I felt that old lump in my throat. That familiar feeling that my godchildren are no longer kids, but adults. No doubt, the same lump that my cousin and her husband are feeling as their oldest is about to be starting college, far away from home. That feeling that we just want to freeze frame those moments and hold on to them just a little longer.
There is a satisfaction when these feelings come. It is the satisfaction that Satan has not prevailed in erasing the moments from my heart. Instead of saying, “I have no delight in them” as Ecclesiastes warns, I still delight in EVERY moment that I reflect. These past events are part of who I am and always will be. They should never be forgotten, or a burden to remember.
They are also moments that our own children should inherit. Becky’s kids were engulfed with stories of the past that caused their eyes to widen; ways of life that kids in this generation have no clue about, as they couldn’t even fathom that type of life. It is a good experience for them to given. Family heritage is lost nowadays. No one has time for it. Everyone is too busy to care about it. Again, these days should be remembered and passed down. Too many lessons of values are lost, when we “blow out” those memories as if we were extinguishing a candle.
Take heed to the advice that Solomon gave, in the Ecclesiastes. Keep those precious moments and blessings that God has enriched you with, long ago. They are not blessings that fade with time. They are blessings that are collected within one’s own lifetime.
By the way, I'm the one in the red coat, along with my brother, cousins, and my beloved Sheltie. :)
Aw you are so cute in that picture! As I sit here with my Grandmother reminiscing and learning about my family history more, this blog really spoke to my heart. Lovely read and inspiration. :)
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