It is peculiar how some memories remain so vivid while others fade. Perhaps that is just the course of your life. I know this one shows the course of mine.
Every spring and fall Dad would switch the windows around. In the spring, take down the storm windows and put up the screens. In the fall it was the opposite. Whichever way the windows were going, they had to be cleaned. When I got older and had to do some of the cleaning, the job wasn't so much fun but, while I was too young to help, it was exciting for me.
I would watch as Dad worked. He would spray the window, making a shape with the spray. My task was to identify which letter he had made. Still too young for school, this was how I learned the alphabet. I would call out, "more Daddy, more", and he would oblige, even though the glass already sparkled.
I don't think either of us understood the path he was paving for me, how those soapy letters would direct and change my life. Now, as I think back over the millions of letters I have printed, written, and typed in the volumes of studies, letters, essays, stories, novels, blog posts, and even the little post-it reminders; they all started with those early lessons.
I hope I never forget the joy that task brought me as Dad gave us the house with the cleanest windows in town.
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What memories from your childhood bring you joy in your golden year. Which ones can you sit and revisit with for hours?
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