Memories are What we Make Them

I woke up this morning in part because it’s what I do (along with breathing and being alive in general) and in part because Alpha Tween had lacrosse practice at 9am and I needed to drive him.

Well, I guess he could walk but it’s a long walk and I like driving with him and chatting.

Of course, I had to get dressed because of things like laws and proper etiquette so I grabbed the shirt I wore yesterday during our impromptu grilling session with the downstairs neighbors and headed upstairs to wake Mr. Tween.

I smelled like BBQ, which, frankly is the second best thing to eating BBQ.

Yesterday was a lot of fun, something I hope you can say as well.

We got a ton of household stuff done (we’re re-arranging the place a bit), took Dog to the Dog Park and then were going to just head to a burger place and grab a quick bite. We’d seen fireworks the night before at a park and we weren’t worried about seeing more so the plan was just to eat and hang out on our newly furnished indoor patio.

Our downstairs neighbors were grilling though and were exceedingly kind in inviting us to join them. We know them but don’t know them well and they’re close to half my age so I wasn’t sure how the gathering would work out. Turns out we had a blast and they were great with the kids. We ate burgers, roasted marshmallows, drank beer (well not Tween and Omega), caught fireflies and did some gymnastics in the back yard.

It’s one of those holidays that I wonder whether it will stick with the boys down the road or not.

You don’t remember every holiday celebration, BBQ or event clearly as you get older. Some stand out, some don’t and as a dad I always wonder what makes a memory stick.

I will say that the best memories are the simplest events. Not to say that a big, grand party won’t be a treasured memory, but most of my favorite memories around things are smaller and filled with details.

tanks! you’re welcome.

One of my lasting memories of July 4th in my house growing is of my mom buying (illegally I think) fireworks for us to set off in front of the house. I don’t think we ever went anywhere for fireworks (or 4th of July) and if we did that doesn’t stick in my brain.

We couldn’t really light the fireworks off (dad did that) save for these small tanks my mom bought.

They were the coolest things ever. They had a fuse on the back, which lit a small rocket and propelled the tank forward on small wheels.

Then, two smaller “flamethrowers” fired off from the front of the tank, followed by the main “cannon” which often just exploded in color rather than firing off the little mini-rockets it was supposed to.

We were allowed to light the fuse then step back. At first we just did them one at a time, but then we had the brilliant idea to face them off against each other. Occasionally there was a small puddle at the foot of the driveway and we discovered they floated reasonably well.

So then we had naval battles.

I’m sure there were huge celebratory BBQs. I’m sure we did other things on July 4th. But that memory, the one with the tanks, is the one I hold onto.

Sometimes I wonder if the kids are having enough fun, if we as parents (and me as a dad) are making things “special” enough.

The truth is, it’s just as likely that the kids hold onto the small things as they do the big things. That they’ll remember catching fireflies with the neighbors as much as they will our trip to Puerto Rico.

A memory doesn’t have to be grand to be grand.

I think adults forget that. Hell, I know they do when I see people put on extravagant birthday parties for their one year old.

We get wrapped up in making something “special”, forgetting that really the “special” can involve just about anything.

As long as we’re there with our kids.

Site Note: I plan on at least one more post today but it looks like we’re going to go swimming at a lake (yay!) so it may not be until tonight or even tomorrow. So even if it’s quiet here. check back later and/or tomorrow for some other posts.

Hey, are you following Dad Moon Rising on Twitter or Facebook? Why the hell not?


2 Responses to “Memories are What we Make Them”

  1. 1 Juanita Lyons
    July 5, 2013 at 8:31 pm

    I must share that when your wife (my youngest) gave me a “memory jar” for mother’s day, all of the carefully written, scrolled memories were of little things. I had even forgotten most of them, but she lovingly shared how important they were to her. Those memories have meant more to me than any other gift.

  2. 2 The Wife
    July 10, 2013 at 8:03 pm

    Awwwww. Thanks Mamita.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Follow me on Twitter

Enter your email for updates right to your inbox by magical email fairies named Ted and Sammy.

Join 222 other followers

What I’m Into:

Reading: Dead Beat by Jim Butcher Listening to: The Heist, Macklemore Watching: Damages

%d bloggers like this: