Memorial Day is one of those days.
One of those days I intentionally slow down.
One of those days I pause to remember.
One of those days I stop to reflect.
One of those days I sit back.
One of those days I soak it all in.
One of those days I vow not to take anything for granted,
but to think about and meditate on the liberties and the freedoms I get to experience every single day,
and the sacrifices made and the lives lost that afforded those very things.
Things like stripping this little love down to his skivvies for a watermelon date
at our backyard picnic table, then teaching him to launch the forbidden seed in our seedless melon into oblivion.
Things like laughing with a whole body laugh until your breath is lost and your belly aches.
Things like lawnmower rides in this boy's neverending quest to be just like Daddy.
Things like friend time hovered over shrimp and sausage and potatoes and corn.
Where laughter perfumes the air and time seems to disappear.
These women share my biggest secrets, by favorite memories, the best parts of my past.
I love them fiercely.
Things like splishing and splashing and dunking and cannonballs and pruny toes.
Things like watching these hunky men thrive as husbands and daddies.
These three are especially incredible.
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Things like sleepy summertime snuggles with my littlest.
And pallets made on the edge of the pool for toddlers who try to hang with the big boys,
and wee little piggies that always sneak from under the covers, whether in the bed or beside the pool.
For all the things,
big and small,
I am grateful for the sacrifices that allowed us to have a perfect little Memorial Day weekend.
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