I was reading this story over at Dear Elena. It reminded me of how truly precious some of the memories can be.
For me, there are three stories, the first involves Gee, the second involves my twin, David, and the last involves my nephew Max.
Gee
A few months after Gee moved in with me, my friend Brian was over. I was working out in the yard, when he came over. As I came into the kitchen, from the back yard, I heard Brian and Gee talking about music, sitting at the dining table. As I walked into the dining room, I heard Gee say, “This is garbage.” I stopped, and listened to the music that was playing for a moment, and then said, “You’re right honey, I don’t like it much either.” Gee looked at me and said, “Honey, that’s the name of the band.” I turned around and went back out to the yard to finish working. I could hear them both laughing… Of course, Gee was very musically inclined…being a music maven, and I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.
David
One year, when we were in sixth grade or so, my brother and I were runners at a charity auction for an adoption agency that specialized in international adoptions, where our friend’s mother worked. It was a few minutes before the auction was supposed to start when Mrs. H, our friend’s mother, introduced a man to my brother, saying that he had just adopted a Korean boy. My brother looked at the man and said, “Well, this is what we look like when we get bigger.” I don’t know why I think this answer was so funny, but it always has been to me. Maybe it was the way my twin said it, or the look on his face when he said it.
Max
This is a story about my father, his grandson, and what grandchildren can get away with.
One day, my father, my two nephews and I were sitting in the living room of my father’s house watching a movie. Max was sitting in my father’s lap, and he had just gotten his diaper changed. A few minutes later, my sister walked came in, just as my father said, “Is it getting warm in here?” I looked over, and there was a stain spreading down the leg of his jeans… and I said, “No, I think Max just pissed all over your lap.”
My father said that his grandsons can do what ever they want… and it’s okay with him. Just as my father stood up, holding Max at arms, my sister, who had snuck out, returned with a camera and took a snapshot of my dad with Max and the large stain on my father’s jeans… Later that year, my sister gave him a framed copy of the photo for his birthday.