Making Memories

I have recently returned from an adventure with my little boy. We went off on a little vacation all our own while my sweet husband was at scout master training. Ethan and I traveled to destination unknown... at least to us. We went and visited some friends of mine who I haven't seen in a great many years. They live in a suburb of Seattle, Washington -- a place where I have never been before -- and Ethan and I were excited to venture off on our little journey.
My friends are people I have known since I was a mere newlywed and new to my profession. David and I interned as teachers together and the four of us, before even having our babies, lived in our university's young married housing together. And even though all four of us interns got along amazingly well, better than any interns the school had ever had before, the Browers and the Lawrences identified with each other. We knew each other. We knew what it was like to live in a tiny apartment. To not have children when everyone around us seemed to gestate at a rapid pace. To have young marital hopes and dreams on an itty bitty budget. We could stretch a dollar like an elastic band.

We babysat their ostrich egg.

Years and miles seemed to melt away, and even though they now have three children with one on the way, and we have our one with one as a star in our eye, we still know each other. We understand mortgages. We know what it's like to have kids who need to go really, really bad. We know laundry battles. The balance between work schedules and wanting to go on vacation. We understand each other. Still.

Ethan and I landed in Seattle ready for an adventure. I am so grateful I was able to share that experience with my son. I never had that as I grew up. We laughed as we ran to our gate to make a connecting flight. I let him share a Dr. Pepper with me. We saw the Golden Gate Bridge from our window. He thinks he taught me about clouds.



We talked about how someday maybe he'll take his kids to Seattle and see the Space Needle and Pike's Place. And he'll tell them how one time he went there with their grandma -- just him and their grandma. I asked him what he will tell them he remembers best about the trip. He was quiet for a moment, as we walked hand in hand through the crowds and past all the vendors, and finally he said, "I think I'll tell them about how it was just us and how we got to be together. And maybe that you let me drink caffeine. Oh, and I fed the seagulls my shrimp tails."

Sounds good to me.