Cabinets of yellow National Geographics. Cold tile floors and the smell of old books. Ramona Quimby on VHS. Nancy Drew novels stacked in closets. Nickelodeon on Saturday mornings. Games with marbles and white blocks and hammers. Twister. Plastic stilts and card tables covered with jigsaw puzzles. A shiny piano and a stunning view of the Narrows Bridge. Falling asleep to the sound of trains and waking to the sound of happy whistling. Bowls of ice cream after dinner and glasses of cranberry juice in the morning. A wooden ramp leading up to a garden tended with love.

This was Grandpa and Grandma’s house.

I never really thought about these things as I lived them. They just were. And now, on days when I’m feeling especially thoughtful, I find myself aching for them. I don’t mean to be sappy about the past but sometimes the reality that life moves on just feels a little…hard.

Last weekend I was gifted with the opportunity to be there for my beautiful niece’s first birthday. It was so wonderful to see how many people came to her party, showering her with love and gifts and kisses. In her purple tutu, Ella was rightfully the star of the day. And while I loved being a part of her birthday celebration, I think what I loved the most about my trip home was when little Ella came to visit my parents’ house. It is pretty obvious she is crazy about her Grandma and Grandpa. She waddles over to them with arms outstretched and a huge grin on her face. She lets out squeals when Grandma buries her face in her neck and she belly laughs when Grandpa tickles under her chin. She explores their home with curiosity, digging through toy bins and cautiously tapping on white piano keys. As the years pass, these will be her realities until one day she will suddenly realize she is grown and they are nothing but beautiful memories.

Time really does pass quickly.

I guess tonight I’m feeling a bit nostalgic; a little sad about the life that will never be lived again. But far more than that, and for whatever reason these memories fill my mind tonight, I am overwhelmed with how incredibly beautiful my life has been. The truth is that I deserve none of the goodness that has been so generously lavished upon me. Too often I forget that my life is a gift, not a right. There are so many, who, by no fault of their own, have never experienced the unconditional love that I have never lived without. I cannot explain it and I do not understand it.

The fact that I can look back on the years gone by with such fondness that my heart aches is truly a gift. My soul resonates with words of David when he says,

“Who am I, O Sovereign Lord, and what is my family that you have brought me this far?”

I pray when it is all said and done, my own children will be left memories that leave them joyfully pondering the very same question.