It's strange how suddenly a crystal clear memory of a time you haven't thought of in months or years will suddenly come rushing back for no good reason.
Like the elderly man at the garage sale who gave my younger boy the money clip he had been admiring. I offered him a dollar for it, and of course he turned around and gave the dollar to Aiden so he would have something to put in his money clip.
His rough, nobby hands, his generosity, his unhurried way of talking to the children brought me right back to moments with my Grandpa pulling out his wallet to hand us a $20 dollar bill for our latest report card. That poor man at the garage sale probably wondered if it was safe to let those children go with the crazy lady who couldn't seem to stop crying over a dollar.
He's been gone 20 years, and yet there are plenty of moments when I can feel him around me, reminding me of the kind of person he expects me to be, encouraging me to be the mama he knows I can be, to nudge me in the direction I know I should be going.
Like the elderly man at the garage sale who gave my younger boy the money clip he had been admiring. I offered him a dollar for it, and of course he turned around and gave the dollar to Aiden so he would have something to put in his money clip.
His rough, nobby hands, his generosity, his unhurried way of talking to the children brought me right back to moments with my Grandpa pulling out his wallet to hand us a $20 dollar bill for our latest report card. That poor man at the garage sale probably wondered if it was safe to let those children go with the crazy lady who couldn't seem to stop crying over a dollar.
He's been gone 20 years, and yet there are plenty of moments when I can feel him around me, reminding me of the kind of person he expects me to be, encouraging me to be the mama he knows I can be, to nudge me in the direction I know I should be going.
