I remember

I don't remember details about my childhood, but I remember lots of little things that, as an adult I can see were monumental in the person I am. In digging deeper into my memories, I can see that those memories have etched themselves in my head and steer my choices in how I behave, who I am.

I think about my kids and the memories they are forming.
What will they remember about their childhood?
What memories will they carry into their adult lives?
How will their past dictate their future?

I pray with my whole heart that they take my failures and my struggles as a human being, a child of God, and that they remember that I tried hard to be my best in the midst of uncertainty. That they load my parenting up with grace and mercy. That they take the hurts of their childhood and find peace and growth in them. That when they look on their childhood, they see the dozens of people who have loved them through their own hurts and brokeness. That they choose to cling to the giggles and sweet memories and let go of the sporadic sadnesses.

I remember when my mom would sit up in a corner in my room and have me rest on her, all night long, while I struggled with yet another asthma attack.
I remember when my dad drove all night long so that when I opened my eyes early in the morning I would find him next to my hospital bed, holding my hand.
I remember our house being open to everyone and it being filled with laughter and friends.
I remember going to the cottage every weekend, exploring islands and imaging a life secluded from the world.
I remember my parents being in my biggest champions.

I remember a childhood of love and I pray my children feel the same.