Showing posts with label Memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Memories. Show all posts

28 July 2014

Of Continuing the Tradition

Once upon a time there was a little girl - a princess in her own right. And every month, as a part of the routine school day, she would receive a precious white sheet of paper containing the key to the realm holding her some of her family's most precious memories. For on that paper were coupons . . . to a magical place called . . . Skateland.

And just about once a month, the family would load up the car on Friday night, head to the edge of the kingdom of La Vista, Nebraska, and pull into the parking lot of the white brick building with bold black lettering spanning the length of the wall, declaring its name to the world. They would find a secluded table, lace up their tan rentals with orange wheels and hit the polished wood rink. The lights were always too dark to make out much, unless you were there, in the center of the action, or you donned your very own glow stick.

And when the announcer would declare a couples skate, the princess would push herself off the floor, except for that magical time of night when it was her turn with the king - her daddy. And they would hold hands as they floated around the rink to the tune of Billy Ray Cyrus crying about his Achy Breaky Heart.

They were fond memories, indeed.

That same princess grew up. And though it had been years, the day she married her very own prince, they celebrated on a rink of blue. They danced their first dance and skated their first skate in their beautiful wedding attire. And her mother and father, who had spent months joining awkward pre-teens at their local rink, preparing their bodies for the task at hand, were there, too.



And it was a fond memory, indeed.

Thus, the princess found herself, eight years later - having not donned skates since that magical day she joined her life with her prince - at the same skating rink with her very own little princess.

The little one's legs were shaky and unsure. The orange wheels pulled themselves from under her more than once and she eventually needed a brace - patched together from PVC pipe and a little duct tape - to even stay upright without her mother using every muscle to keep her on her feet. The little princess was scared - terrified, even - but she pushed through. She would take a lap and take a break, but each time, she would muster up her resolve and declare, "I want to go back out there." She fell and let her mommy pick her up. She teased her mommy when she, too, took a couple of stumbles. She wore a brave smile and let loose cautious giggles. She was vulnerable and courageous. And they skated the couple skate (though no Billy Ray Cyrus was to be heard) and watched the glow-skate. The older princess was proud, heart overflowing.

And it was a fond memory, indeed.

Lacing her up (this task is SO much harder than it looks!)

Ready to roll!

This face, her expression after her first go-around, sans brace, sums up how she felt about the experience in the beginning.

Stretching her skating legs.


*Many thanks to the dear friends who invited Micaiah to her first-ever skating party and for letting me join in the fun!

05 May 2012

Of the Classics

I had one of those moments the other day, the kind of moment when I was vacuuming the living room/dining room floors and watched an ant scurry away and, thinking of all the insects, crawling, creeping or flying, which have invaded our home as the heat has risen, seeking respite from this mid-spring summer weather, reaching the 90's already, I had a fleeting thought of, "I could blog about this."  Really, about bugs.

I could title it,"Of the Bugs of Summer" - catchy, eh?  But then I realized maybe the reference would be lost on most.

Because maybe not everyone spent their childhood repeatedly putting the VHS tape into the VCR on which their dad had recorded a couple of hours of VH1 (you know, the grown-up version of MTV that played more soft rock than pop hits - though those were allowed, too).  Not everyone fast-forwarded the VH1 recording to find their favorites, like Paula Abdul's "Straight Up," Billy Ray Cyrus's "Achy Breaky Heart," and, yes, Don Henley's "Boys of Summer."

Especially not many my age.

Most of my friends were barely sitting up on their own, if they were even born, when this hit was at the height of its popularity.  And there I was, nine years old (or younger), singing about long-lost summer love, when Don Henley was already past his prime - and here I sit, still able to sing along with the chorus.

This is one of the gifts my dad has passed along to his children, a fondness and appreciation for the classic rock (and a little pop, too) hits of the seventies and eighties.

Because I know not everyone spent their weekly Pizza Hut visits sitting in a booth, waiting their Pan-Style Meat Lovers, while Dad picked out the songs on the juke-box, always the same ones, asking the waitress to turn up the speakers so we could hear his prime playlist and he could quiz his tiny musical protegés on the name and artist of each hit - like Brownsville Station's "Smokin' in the Boys' Room" or ZZ Top's "Legs" - while we competed to see who could spit out the answers quickest, hopefully within just the first couple of notes of the tune.

So not everyone still turns up the radio if their dial happens to land upon Billy Joel's "Uptown Girl," singing along to lyrics that will never be forgotten, though definitely not understood at the time at which they were ingrained.

And all of these memories flooding back because of one tiny ant as I vacuumed our living room/dining room floor.  And now I'm pretty sure I won't see another insect this summer without humming a little Don Henley.  Thanks, Dad.


1,000 Gifts:
452. Women being real
453. Free paint
454. Chicken Carbonara Pizza (especially when it's free)
455. Realizing what's worth crying over (and, more importantly, what's not)
456. A husband who consoles, even over the not-important tears
457. Being noticed
458. Remembering


Photo of the Day: Our big little man loves playing with his "babies" - this afternoon he even fell asleep snuggling with sissy's doll.  He's going to be such a good daddy some day - only don't tell him that; he always just responds with, "No, I Emmett!"