I wish all of our days could be filled with memories of the greatest moments of our lives. None of mine would go down in history, or make it into Guinness Book of World records.
But each is worth its weight in gold, a treasure of memories that anyone, even a prisoner serving a life-sentence behind bars, is free to recall anytime, anyplace.
Let me share a few that rank high on my list of inexpensive, everyday, memorable imprints:
- Puddle jumping
- Stepping over cracks (or “you’ll break your mother’s back”)
- Seeing a new-born kitten suckle with its eyes closed
- First frozen custard “swirled” from a machine
- Walking on the curb with arms stretched out while avoiding the pavement and the street
- The cool sand beneath the boardwalk after stepping on really hot sand
- First Robin of Spring
- Watching a Slinky “walk” down steps
- Riding a bike without training wheels (Watching my child do it later!)
- Playing “War,” the card game
- “Go Fish” while we’re at it
- Never finishing Monopoly
- Winning “Sorry“
- Licks on my face by a puppy dog
- Playing “Tag.” (“You’re “It!“)
- Playing “Buck, Buck.” (For Bill Cosby’s North Philly fans)
- Reaching base safely
- Watching “Howdy Doody,” “Scooby Doo,” “Sesame Street,” the “Rugrats,” or some other kid show (fill in your favorite . . .)
- First sleepover at a friend’s house
- Pillow fights
- Staying up until midnight the first time ushering in a New Year
- First favorite Rock & Roll songs (“Mack the Knife” anyone?)
- Getting dressed up for Easter, Hanukkah, Ramadan, Diwali, or Buddha’s birthday
- Walking barefoot in the “country“
- Getting off school with a “Snow Day“
Adults should never let go of the child within. Living simpler ensures we live life large, in the moment. And that’s what makes each day a delight, looking forward to discovering more about ourselves, those around us, and the earth we occupy.
hugs for children, and child-like pleasures…hugmamma.
Now, that’s what a call a hug!
Thank you mama.
Loves thinking about walking in the country…the soft plush grass, the memories of climbing trees to chasing bunny rabbits. Your post evoked many good memories. I love that.
You can still “hang out” on a tree. Just pick the lowest branch. My son and I used to chase our white bunny in the yard. He pulled a couple “all-nighters” away from the house (the bunny, not my son,) so we keep him in the hutch now. But we got him conmpany. Another bunny!
Glad you can recall those memories. If you linger with them for a few moments, especially the ones where you exerted energy, and you recall the running, chasing or physical aspect, your body will start to metabolize as if you were actually back in your youth. You can be young again if you focus on those happy energetic thoughts.
I think of running and hurdling a guy on my way to scoring a touchdown. Also, that first kiss with a girl I really, really liked when I was only 12.
I stretch out both memories, and take 20 years off my age!
I leave whatever good I’ve done to Jesus, the Christ of God. It is right that I only remember the wrong I’ve done. It provokes me to seek His face more often.
If I have a splinter in my hand it isn’t right to try to forget it by remembering when my finger was healthy. It’s far more important to concentrate on the object that causes me pain. It’s the pain of rememberance that causes me to seek remedy.
By His Grace
Nice of you to stop by. Wish there were some kid things you’d still like to do. Nature brings out the child in me sometimes. Can’t think of many things I did wrong while blending with the Universe and feeling One with the Power above me, around me, as well as inside of me.
My daughter laughs at me still when I do #5. Can’t help it.
I started doing it when, at the local bus stop, you had a choice: walk on the busy street and risk getting run over by a car, or walk in the sucking mud next to the curb. I chose to walk the tightrope of the curb itself.
Later, when they filled in the mudhole, I kept doing it. It was too much fun.
Don’t tell anyone. I still do it. Tightrope walk on the curb with arms flailing out! The kid in me demands it. It’s still fun, and I’m young enough not to care how old I might be . . . I still have a bit of Mikey inside of me.