When I did that amazingly easy merge of my previous blog to this blog the process brought all of the old pictures with it. Amidst all of the spot the grammatical errors through the years chagrin I was delighted to see some old pictures. Today I am going to share a few just for fun.
First up…Claire wearing a red wig, a cowboy hat, and a whole lotta sass. We no longer have the wig or the hat but she still has all that sass.
The three oldest when they were a whole lot closer in height than they are now. They were having a race on the beach and if I remember correctly it was New Year’s Day and we were visiting friends who had a beach condo.
Oh my goodness, this makes me laugh! I still remember Claire running up to me, “Mama, did you see that funny face I made?!” It has always been, and still is, very difficult to get a good group shot of my offspring. But at least we I have ones like this to love.
One of my absolute favorites of the girls!
And one of my all time favorite sessions with Abby. She and I had such fun that day deciding to slip off to the beach and do so pictures.
I could just keep adding pictures to this post but I think I had better stop for now but you want to know what’s crazy? I can recall the exact day and the exact moment that I took the picture. I can remember bits of conversation and still hear the echo of giggles. Photographs are very powerful things.
Ahh, it feels good to get behind the camera again and know that I will be making more memories to store up and revisit later on down the road.
It’s a fragrances that can evoke memories of my childhood with the slightest whiff.
It calls to mind bare feet in the sweet grass, rich earth under my hands, blue skies and sweaty pony tails as we raced around the yard, climbing in and out of the low heavy branches.
It also calls to mind plain cheese sandwiches with a little mayonnaise. I must have eaten one almost everyday under that great big magnolia in our back yard. Funny, but now I wouldn’t touch that sandwich, but magnolias?
Oh, how I love them.
Maybe it’s the way the big waxy petals seem to enclose a secret treasure.
Gradually unfolding to reveal the scarlet dipped treasure at it’s center.
I have always been fascinated by the stamens and the way they’d gather, cupped in the soft white petals like some kind of offering.
It’s a hardy tree that can grow tall with branches from the ground all the way up making it the perfect fort and climbing tree.
With every intake of it’s sweet scent I can hear echoes of my childhood…my sisters…laughter…my Mother calling us in for the night. And if I sit still long enough I can almost see the fireflies that used to dance among it’s leaves late in the evening.
It was nice and rainy this morning. It was also the first Saturday following the first week of school so I was content to be in my pajamas and sipping coffee at nine thirty. (Okay, yes, I was also on pinterest. Don’t judge me.) Two of the girls had stayed the night with my Mother and they were going to be heading to the beach. I was happy for them to be going but no thank you, I was quite happy to be staying home.
Until my oldest woke up. Nothing would suit the child but we call Nana and see if they were still at the beach. And wouldn’t you know it they hadn’t even left yet.
Do you see where this is going?
That’s right. To the beach. (I know, I know. I mentioned it was rainy. Here. In Pace we had rain. In Pensacola, not so much.)
So we went and it was wonderful. Sunny. Gorgeous. Just enough surf to keep everybody entertained.
That’s when the most amazing thing happened. I’m watching my Mother playing in the surf with my kids, listening to their laughter and it was like having a flashback to my own childhood. It was like a transparency of an image was being overlaid upon another and they were melding into one. For a minute the laughter and squeals of my own children blended with the echoes of mine and my sisters. It was the splashing leaping bodies of my kids converging into the memory of that same moment thirty-five years ago of my Mother teaching us to body surf in the waves.
The joyful threads of my own childhood memories intertwined with that moment…that memory being created right then was strengthened by ones that had come before it. The intangible things we give our children…love, security, our faith and beliefs…they will interweave into their own lives and memories. Hopefully giving them strength, setting their feet on firm high places.
One day I hope one of my kids will be sitting on the edge of the shore and when the laughter of my grandchildren flies through air I hope they remember this day.