I Remember When…

The other day I spent about an hour in the pool with my youngest daughter.  After a dizzying session of whirlpool creation, we began talk.  We talked about the squirrel trap she created.  How those little guys stole all of the almonds she scattered across the driveway, but none of the blueberries were harmed.

At some point I thought of about how amazing it was to be having this conversation with this little person.  My thoughts drifted to all of the memories of her growing up and I started to share some of that with her in the way that my wife and I sometimes share with each other.  We call it “I remember when…”

I remember when you were born.

I remember when you used to be afraid of the deeper pool.

I remember when I first saw you climb our tree like a monkey.

Then it dawned on me to alter it a little and begin to ask questions instead.

Do you remember when…

Do you remember when you were born?  No, but I remember the pictures.  Did I really have all that dark hair?  Yes.

Do you remember when we collected rocks at the beach?  Yes.  But mostly, I liked throwing them in the water.

The questions helped, and eventually she didn’t need prompting and it began to flow.

I remember when I was little and played with a pink basket in your room.

I remember when I first went to school.

I remember when my older sisters came home from college and I cried, because I missed them.

Today, what do you remember?  Take a few moments and reflect and share a few with us, or someone close to you.  Try this out with people you know and ask them what they remember.

4 thoughts on “I Remember When…

  1. That is a great memory. Of course your dad would have a special stick just for that purpose. Thanks for sharing this memory with all of us!

  2. I remember when my family went camping. My older brother and I were probably 6 and 7 years old.
    My dad had a tarp system he rigged up over the cooking/eating area. When it rained, the tarp would fill with water. LOTS of water. My dad would get his special stick (that wouldn’t poke holes in the tarp) and wait until my brother and I were in place, under the edge of the tarp, in our bathing suits, SHIVERING in anticipation of the cascade of water we knew was coming as soon as Dad pushed up on that water-laden tarp. He would pause, just long enough for us to relax and a little and the, WHOOSH, all the water came roaring off the tarp and all over us. It is one of my favorite memories.

Comments are closed.