"In the happiest of our childhood memories, our parents were happy, too." ~Robert Brault
Will Lydia remember
the summers of childhood
when she climbed her favorite tree,
waved to passing cars,
squished berries between her fingers,
and danced barefoot among the clover?
When she wore her raggedy Sketchers,
saving the new ones for "going out"
and old Scooby Doo shirt
while talking to imaginary friends in the tree.
When she tap danced on a stump in the yard-
Her rhythm following that of the birds and bees
that were so alive around her.
Pointing out Cardinals, her favorite red bird, to me
as I rocked on the porch
and her daddy sat lounging on the swing.
Will she remember the nest of tiny sparrows
on our comfortable front porch and the wet lick
of her favorite dog's kiss?
Will she remember painting and planting and plucking?
Garden vegetables that she grew and cooked and ate
that were so yummy.
Or her feet buried in the sand and grit of her own sandbox?
What about our "pic-a-nics" at noon under our shade tree?
Or shimmy to the top of the pole…
"Look at me Mommy and Daddy!"
We looked but flinched to see her so high.
Will she remember the "ooch-ouch" song we sang when crossing
hot gravel to the cool, soft grass, wet from hours
of sprinkler fun in the sun?
Backyard BBQs and kids running everywhere.
Laughter with friends and catching fireflies at dark.
Will she remember me poking holes in the jar and then laughing so hard
when her new friends made their escape into the house?
Or the bumble bee named Daisy that we fed fresh blooms of Rose-of-Sharon
and deciding to “let the bee go free” after one day.
Will she remember movie nights and popcorn,
camping in the living room, visits from Grandma and
storms that made the hanging plants swing on the front porch.
What about the day we checked the nest, only to find it empty?
The babies had flown away.
Will she remember climbing onto my lap and asking
"What'cha writing?"
When she is old enough to understand
the importance of these memories, she too will have flown away.
Will she remember splashing in the waves of the ocean with her daddy
while mama walked the beach for shells?
Late night rides on the golf cart to the strip and "slappin' hands"
or sitting on the covered deck painting our nails and singing
Taylor Swift songs while the smell of charcoal grills filled the air
Will she remember our daily detours to see
the progress of her new school
and the fading away of the old one.
Or riding by my school and saying
"You can't have my mama until August!"
Will she remember these summer days as they slip past
and bring us a season of new beginnings,
a new school year, and growth?
With her new dress, and prized pink shoes,
I watch her ponytails flip flap back and forth.
Her book bag could swallow her whole, but she carries it with such pride.
The car door closes and just like that, I realize our summer is gone...
But within us are the memories.
Love Always,
Mom
