Childhood Remembered

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I remember Saturdays going to town with him. Town was a six mile trek and riding along with Pawpaw was a treat. I am sure he brought along other of the grandchildren on occasion. But I think he had this way of making each of us feel special so I only remember it being just him and me. I remember him buying me a chic-o-stick at a store. The store vague in my memory. A hardware store perhaps. The remainder of the Saturday trips unclear in my memory now thirty years later. Odd the things we remember. I rarely see chic-o-sticks in the candy section now, but when I do I always remember these trips to town as a little girl.

I remember sitting beside him at his old upright piano. Listening. Pecking at keys. Discovering. Roots of my love for music found with him. The music was woven into his being. A God given gift. For me it was a talent, but one requiring more work. Not as easy as it was for him.

I remember my fingers gliding over the keys. A child’s version of Beethoven’s Fur Elise I was learning. Him listening and encouraging.

I remember other things too that I would rather forget. Like the cancer.

But I’ll choose to remember the other things. The pleasant things more. The chick-o-sticks, the piano and a pawpaw that might not have hung the moon, but in a granddaughter’s eyes helped God set it in its place.

What are some things you remember from your childhood? Do you have special memories of your grandparents?

I’m linking up with Peter Pollock for the One Word at a Time blog carnival and also 3 From Here & There.