In the rhythms and routines of life,
The simple tasks.
The have-tos and must-be-dones.
Along the edges and cracks.
We find ourselves creating.
Creating though we do not see it forming at the time.
We mold memories.
Traditions arise and unfold in the threads and edges.
One day we tell.
We speak of the childhood remembrances.
The moments that we noticed.
The memories we loved.
The ones we took for granted as our days flowed.
Ice cream cones dipped in butterscotch.
Juicy Fruit gum handed out every Sunday with a twinkling smile.
Riding in the car beside Grandpa for donuts all around.
Homemade french fries every Christmas.
Roasting hot dogs in the open fireplace and reminiscing.
Rolling dough and filling apples with cinnamon and sugar.
Knowing which drawer held Smarties for the grandchildren.
Watching biscuits rise in the oven, nose pressed against the warmth of the door glass.
Sugar cookies, soft and plump from a recipe passed down, generation to generation.
Ordering happy meals and munching on french fries.
Looking, looking among the green blades of grass for a hint of pink or yellow.
Seeking eggs, dyed with color and hidden carefully.
Gathering with cousins, eighties haircuts and oversized eyeglass frames in place, passing around gifts, wrapped in rustling red and green paper.
Hugging close the longed for Cabbage Patch doll.
Listening to the sharp scrape of ice skate blades spinning across the frozen pond, set in frosty wintertime landscape.
Not realizing, or noting, that the Last Time always shrinks in shyly, silently.
No loud announcements or pronouncements or proclamations.
One day, we notice.
We lift our heads and there it isn’t.
This everyday occasion of life has morphed into a memory of happy days past.
And it becomes our turn to create with a bit more intentionality.
To form and shape the little things of happy
For the generation we are raising.
Step into it.
Buy the Smarties and the donuts.
Wave wildly with both hands when you spy eager children faces against the window glass.
Assemble the backyard swingset for delighted grandchildren.
Stack the empty plastic ice cream buckets in the garage corner for collecting an odd assortment of treasured items like leaves and locust shells and stones and grass from the yard every time they visit.
Send stickers in the mail and go out for pizza.
Pack the picnic. Play at the park.
Give little hands a bowl and eggs to break open.
Roll out cinnamon bread dough together.
Break out candy bars for no reason at all, but simply to delight in teeth sinking into chocolate.
Make the memories.
Because we can.
We’re here today.
We have this moment.
Every good day.