Holiday Memories

I love the holiday season. From Thanksgiving to New Year's, I'm a pretty happy person. I love memories, and creating memories. Holidays are bursting at the seams with memory opportunities.

Most of the time, you don't even have to work to create them. Some are sweet, some are funny. Rarely does anyone (at least in my family) remember the crappy times. I can ask my sister, "What's your favorite Christmas memory?" and I can almost guarantee that it would be the same as mine. Hands down, feeding the cows with Grandpa and Daddy. We would beg and beg him to let us help him feed the cows. We city girls didn't get to do that often, so our yearly trip to the 100+ acre farm my dad grew up on was always a fun novelty. We wanted to experience everything every year, even if it smelled like cow poo.

Bright and early Grandpa would go down and call the cows. I mean, call. Like in the movies, or a hillbilly commercial. They'd come trotting down, and Grandpa would let us climb in the loft of the barn and throw down the hay bales. Then he'd let us cut them open and feed them to the cows (and he'd always let us pet them). He'd tell us each one of their names. As I write this I can smell the sweet smell of hay and alfalfa, and those smells remind me of my Grandpa and the small things he did that meant so much to me as a child. He'd always call us Pasquawlie, or Boy (since he had mostly granddaughters). He'd empty his pockets when he hugged, and apologize if he hadn't yet shaved that day. A good, long, hard hug was the way he expressed his love.

I treasure those memories, and even though he passed away in May, I know my grandfather will forever be in my heart and in my memories. He is connected to some of my fondest childhood memories.

I love how I will be able to create these memories for my children. I can't wait to say to my mother-in-law... "Do you remember the Thanksgiving when Izzy bingo-dotted Eli's head?"