In addition to moving to a little house and all that goes with it I have had a recurring thought. For quite some time.
I remember going to my grandparents house. It always seemed so little to me. The house was always busy. People every where. Grandma sitting on the couch with a gazillion people coming in and out. Grandpa sitting in his chair, smoking that cigar. There is absolutely nothing that smells better than the memory of your grandparents and the comfort they give/gave you. I am so glad smells hit the ALIVE button on memory so quickly. Smell a cigar and bam I’m transported back to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Smell Dentyne and bam I’m transported back to Grandmother and Grandfather’s house.
Anyway, I remember my grandparents houses. And them in it.
And now? As I prepare to move to that little bitty house? I have realized I am setting the scene, the location, the memories to be-for Grace O’Malley, her little sister who’s Irish name has not made its self known to me yet, and all of the little ones to follow. I haven’t even lived it yet. But today as I prepare to go there and work, painting, new bathroom, flooring…. It will all be old memories to them some day.
There will be a smell that kick starts their brain some day, to remember coming to Mamo and Po’s house. They’ll remember pictures on the wall. They’ll picture me in my chair, Po in his. I’ll probably be eating toast. Po will probably be eating pizza. They’ll look back and picture us so clearly, in a form that we haven’t even reached yet.
I’m thinking forward to what will be. Some day too soon they will be thinking of what was.
Wow.
I hope I make them some good memories.
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