There are times in life when my senses are alerted by something unexpected--a sound, a smell, the touch of the breeze on my arm--and my mind drifts away to another time. Today I experienced one of those pleasant subtle nudges. My two youngest boys were playing outside with a friends, and their laughter carried through the closed window, faint highs and lows of young boys happiness. I sat up and listened, smiled, and the image of my two oldest boys playing in a plastic pool when they were one and three came back to me. I remembered the smell of the nearby flowers, and the exact spread of the smile on my oldest son's face, his impish grin emblazoned in my mind.
The memory only lasted an instant, but it was enough. It filled my heart, reminding me that those carefree moments were not gone forever. They've merely been tucked away for later times, when perhaps we need them even more.
It's been almost 20 years since that day in our front yard, when the boys splashed about in eight inches of water, and yet it doesn't make me sad. I love all of our six children, and every memory--good and bad--that we've created. I'm happy for their maturity, as I was happy for their youth. I don't long for days gone by. I look forward to what's to come.
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