Death is not worse pain than an empty life. -- Lun Tha

I know what I remember from when I was a young child.

I remember my father's face as he reached to pick me up. I remember the time my mom told me Be Still when she'd had an accident involving chocolate and broken glass in the kitchen. I remember sitting very still, as a matter of fact, and the lights and shadows of the room.

I remember when my dad buried me in sand at the beach and how Mom pretended to be SO mad with us. :-)

I remember getting spanked for playing in the trunk of the car. I deserved it; that had been dangerous.

I remember Mom reading Winnie the Pooh books to my brother and me. We could read it ourselves, but it was better with Mom.

What will my children remember?

Will they remember the book-reading times? The movie-watching times? The way we build castles together with mega-blox or Legos?

Will they remember the "Get OFF of that !" times or the "I am SO not happy with you right now" times?

When they have children of their own, will they remember the wrestling matches we had on the living room floor, surrounded by toys and pillows? Will they remember how we'd see how fast we could reach the front door from the car?

I hope so. I want them to remember the fun stuff we do as well as the not-so-fun stuff. I want them to know I tried to bring them a good life.

Maybe they'll remember. I do.
:-)