November 22, 2019

He Remembers It Differently

Timehop is a lovely invention of an app.  I love how it gently knocks on the door of my mind and says, "Would you like to know what you were doing on this very day for the last few years?  Thanks to your contributions to the interwebs and social medias, we've documented it for you."  I mean, it doesn't say all that.  But it could.

And I almost always say yes. Yes, I want to know what my children were saying, what I was reading about, who was influencing my life, and what was on my mind for as long as I've been posting it out loud.

(I say "almost always" because this allows for the exception of those few weeks at the end of December and into January. Timehop and I annually take a break from one another for that stretch of reminders.)

My mom posted this memory yesterday, from three years ago:

Texting with my daughter:
"So how was the field trip, Tricia?"
"UGH. So hard. My word. All day inside a museum with 4th graders. I am exhausted. I seriously need an inch of margin. Can the boys come to your house for just a little while after school?"
"Sure. Go find some space."

I remember it well.  It was rough.

And then, this.

A minute later, Ty comes flying in my door, full of energy.
"Hey Ty! Heard you had a field trip! How was the day?"
"I had a GREAT day, Grandma!"
(Hmmm.) "Well, that's awesome, buddy! What was the very best part?"
"Mom."

Oh, my heart.  Now, see, this I had not remembered.

As if to say, "Yes, it really happened," (because apparently Timehop talks to my subconscious on a cellular level), Timehop flashed me this little nugget.C14BCB02-E35D-4E90-85AB-E451854D01AC

My littlest dude, sharing a seat on a school bus.  This was before his voice changed, before his feet were bigger than mine, before he towered over me, and before he started eating more cereal than I can wrap my mind around.

It's the paradox of parenting, indeed.  The remembering differently.

Sometimes when you remember the exhaustion and the sleeplessness and the slugging through to finish, they remember you as the very best part.  On this week before Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for this: he remembers it differently.

Today, Timehop did me this little favor.

"Stop acting like I'm not smart!

Did you know people used to cheat off my homework when I was your age and older??

I know things."

Nice parenting, Trish.  One can only hope that maybe they will remember that differently, too.

2 comments on “He Remembers It Differently”

  1. I met you at the Comfort and Joy event at my church. Your speaking, writing and “realness” truly resonate with me. When you signed your books that I had purchased, you said you thought we had met before. I have been thinking of where that could’ve been ever since. It hasn’t come to me yet. Maybe we know each other on a soul level!

    Anyway, thanks for what you do and just being you!

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