September 18, 2018: Moving On

Day 11 | 30 Days of Writing

Same spot at Lake Zorinsky. 18 years apart.

In August of 2000, I loaded up my car and drove to Lake Zorinsky Park. Lugging the boys (then 7, 4, and 5 months old) we trekked about a quarter of a mile on the trail to a spot I had eyeballed earlier on my run.

Note that in the year 2000, our idea of having a professional picture taken of the kids entailed a trip to the Target Photo Studio. We didn't hire a photography to meet in a field of sunflowers. That option wasn't available. At least, not to my knowledge.

And there was no such thing as a newborn photo shot with snuggly babies in unbelievable sleeping poses with adorning parents. Our newborn picture was taken at the hospital with wrinkled baby in bassinet. We had one choice, would purchase and then cut out of a sheet and mail to our closest relatives and friends. Oh, and this was typically included with a handwritten birth announcement.

Those were the days.

Without knowing it, I was a trendsetter taking my kids picture in a field with the sun hitting perfectly in the background. I truly loved this picture and had it framed in my office for years. Also note that I had to wait to have the picture developed and picked up from Target Photo. My first digital camera purchase came shortly after.

Last Saturday I took Zeke on a walk around Zorinsky. It was the first time I took him around the big lake. Coming up to the spot where I took the picture above, I had to sit Zeke and commemorate with his puppy baby picture. I didn't catch the sun the same way, but it was fun to take, nonetheless.

The rest of the walk, my mind was overflowing with memories of the many times I had stepped these same steps on the same trail over the last twenty-some years. Zorinsky is my backyard. Walks, runs, bike ride, teaching my kid to ride their bikes, training for marathons, walking my first dog, walks with my parents, pulling a wagon of little boys to the park...so many steps, so many memories.

Someone once referred to me as Sentimental Sandy. My initial reaction was "that's fair." I do love to reminisce. But I don't see this as a bad thing. It's kind of like recycling. Isn't it great to be able to have the same enjoyment out of the same moment many times over?

Garrett's practically offsets my sentimentality. I say my house has a heartbeat. He says it's a just house. I savor each of my life 'lasts' and try to enjoy each sweet moment of recollection. He coaxes me to enjoy the new. Together we are a good mix. New memories are just as golden.

Larry, Garrett's dad, arrived  at our house today. He and I are alike in enjoying the little pieces of life we have collected over the years. Larry tells me that I need to help him go through all the things he has accumulated in his home in Indiana.

"Gladly!" is my response.

I know the need is more to hear the stories that accompany each piece we will pack away. The best way to let go of the past is to share it a bit with another. A good memory is always worth sharing.

I am sure Zeke will be walking many new trails soon, but I am glad I got him around good old Zorinsky last Saturday. Even our little furry friends know when we need to slow down it down and just take it all in.


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