Springtime Memories

Just out of curiosity: What is your favorite memory?

We all have one. I have a lot. Some of them are vague, fuzzy memories I sometimes mistake for dreams. Some of them are very distinct and clear, and I remember exactly how I felt when they happened. I guess my favorite memory isn't even a memory, but more of a series of memories.

The sun is getting brighter here on campus. I can hear birds singing outside my window when I wake up in the morning, and I smell the fresh grass and buds beginning to pop up out of the snow drifts and puddles. It is February, yes, but anything can happen with Michigan weather. It is February, but I can sense spring is on its way.

Spring is the season when my memories all come back to me, mostly because it is the season of new beginnings. And we can't have a new start without recalling what has happened in the past. In the past, when I used to lay out in the long green grass in my backyard and stare up into the cloudless sky, a slight, cool breeze chilling me. The sun was always positioned just right: not bright enough to blind me, but not dim enough to be unnoticeable. My dogs would be running, playing in the yard. My dad would be cooking steak or burgers on the grill. My mom would be sitting on the porch talking to my grandpa, or listening to music inside as she continued with her never-ending spring cleaning. My sister would be practicing basketball in the driveway, or making bazooka zucchini guns with my cousins in the garden. And I would lay in the grass and take deeps breaths of the cleanest air I have ever known.

Sometimes I spent those same days wandering through the woods in my backyard, swinging on our old swing set (which has been gone for what must be at least 5 years now), or playing catch with my dad. All of these memories come in a series in my mind when I think of the spring season, and they all make me smile. I guess I just like the simplicity. No worries. No anxiety. There was nothing to stress out about, no reports to finish. Just me and my family and our home.

These are the times I like to remember the most. These are the times that keep me going on especially difficult days. These are my fondest memories.

What are yours?