In a couple weeks, my grandson will have reached his 53rd week of life. A pretty good accomplishment when you consider the crying, the sleepless nights, and the unfathomable tantrums. If only I were that cute. Actually, I had no doubts that he would reach his first year in fine fashion. In the days that have passed so rapidly, he and I have shared several very unique and fun filled moments.
I understand that I had similar fun times as a baby with my grandfather in England. Sadly, I don't remember any of them. My earliest memory is sitting and playing in a mud colored running stream of water that resulted from a flash flood in Texas. And I'm pretty sure I wasn't in Texas as part of a witness relocation program.
Anyway, how many people have we delighted and had wonderful experiences with but can't remember a single moment because of our immature brains? I can't help but wonder if we might have become better people had we had those enduring memories to get us through those tough days of youth. Or, at the very least, I wish that my grandson would remember our special times … especially in the coming days when I can't.
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