Springtime always makes me think of my family that isnt with us in physical anymore.
The first mowing of the yard reminds me of cutting the grass with my poppa. He’d wear a white tank or t-shirt and often had a sun hat w a colorful band around the rim. His beer belly and scruffy chin were perfect. His silly expressions made me roll my eyes and giggle. I remember him letting me push the silver button as he put the John Deere in drive. We’d duck under the weeping willow as we cruised through the yard.
Easter reminds me of my grandpa. He was a man with a past but man did he show so well the transformation that can take place in a belie of a resurrected life. I think of visiting his grave and counting the various AA coins lined along the headstone. Even in his spirit state he still inspires so many to live a life of change. Many days I still wear the ring he made by patiently hammering, little by little, a quarter.
The spring mushrooms and greens sprouting up for us to forage remind me of my Babi. Her stories of the old world, Campbell’s soup factory, the family smorgasbords, her snucked-in $2 for us to spend at the hot dog stand… these are things that bring me never-ending comfort. I was so blessed to have families that extended beyond blood. There is love and wisdom beyond typical bonds.
The rain reminds me of my many aunts and uncles who passed as I was a child. My uncle who brought endless stories both funny and tragic. My great aunt who inspired me to learn about cultures other than my own, to take in the lessons from all of our differences, that we are all God’s children. My great uncle who was mysterious to me yet always took the time to share a wink or a bit of silliness. I miss them all. I often tell my kids memories at bedtime, not just so they know them but also because I need to keep them alive in my own memories.
With my kid’s great grandfather going so fast into dementia recently it has made me thinking of all the wonderful memories we had with him and his family. I’m one of those people who have a hard time remaining in the present moment. It leaves me w almost a regret. Wishing I would have expressed how much I appreciate the time people take to just live life, walking by our side, and helping each-other along. I’ve never really thought about the possibility of not being able to picture these memories in my mind. Maybe, photograohy, after all is such a blessing. It makes more sense now why my grandmother and dad grieve the loss of old photographs the way I grieve missed gatherings.
My friend over at Amy Tripple Photography really caught my heart with her post. She shared a grandmother’s sweetie phot session. grandmother’s photo session Amy Trippleohotography. In just a few pictures & a short description she also expressed what so many of us wish, that we had more time & more captured memories with the ones we love.
I really love Amy’s dedication to her family and her profession, you really should check out her work and words. If you are in the area, I guarantee you will be touched forever if you’ve experienced a sitting with her, too.
Wishing you all a day soaked in love and happy memories.