Left Behind Memories

Well, maybe it was something more than memories.

Each of the past two weekends were special with respect to time spent with our grandsons. We were able to spend individualized time with each of them. And that is something very unique in our fast moving world.

Saturday, this past weekend, was filled with baseball (tee-ball and Orioles on the TV) and time spent with Ethan and Jax, while Sunday provided some good one-on-one time with Lucas while we were out looking at a house and then back to our house for more Orioles baseball and a meal. This was followed by more time with Ethan and Jax in the evening.

It was a wild and crazy day and since summertime fruit is beginning to appear--there was the obligatory watermelon. Watermelon is a favorite of our family. We cut it into bite size chunks, put it in a bowl and munch on it all day long until it is gone.

This morning, as I opened the door of the powder room, I was reminded of the grandsons and the watermelon as I turned the still sticky door handle.

I never really thought about it before this morning, but we expect door handles to be smooth and metallic to the touch. And when they are not smooth--we are somewhat repulsed. We wonder--what am I touching and what is wrong here?

And then I realized--it is a memory.

A memory of Sunday, and watermelon, and laughter (with some crying thrown in) and of grandsons with sticky, watermelon sloppy hands running to the powder room to wash up.

I was going to clean off the knob. Erase the stickiness which recalls the memory.

But then I decided not to.

It made me smile--and on a gray, overcast morning with more rain and gloom in the forecast I needed something to make me smile.

I chalked it up to a left behind memory.