Remembering what Spring sounds like

My kids have been out of high school almost 20 years, and there are things you forget.

I only make the admission that I must have had children at a shockingly young age, to say that it is possible to forget what Spring sounds like.

My husband and I live in a neighborhood in a cul-de-sac that hasn’t had children around here in so long, we have had zero trick or treaters in almost 20 years.

This had traditionally meant more candy for me, but in the past couple years we’ve had three families with kids move into homes really close by and now I’m reminded of a sound I never thought I’d take for granted – unbridled hope and living in the moment as only loud kids can make it sound.

The kids, boys and girls aged nine to 17, play football in the cul-de-sac, and one of the little suckers screams right before his horrible kicks goes off course and the football hits my garage door. One of the older boys has a roping dummy that he ropes with his lasso and the girls in the ‘hood kind of like it.

Something about hearing children squeal with laughter and kids flirting makes me smell snowcones that aren’t there.

I can’t lie, sometimes I strategize about a month-long vacation at an adult-only resort, but something about how kids come out of their hibernation like naïve bears takes me back not only to my kids’ childhoods, but also my own.

My own childhood was mine to live, and fondly remember; my children’s childhoods were my honor to participate in, and my grandkids are my privilege to be a part of.

Time is fleeting, but it is also sweet in what it leaves in its wake – which are memories that can be conjured up by kids you don’t even know before the burdens of the world tempt them to take everything so seriously.

So I‘m going to soak it in this Spring. I know from my own experience that these kids will grow up and move on and the non-existent snow cones will be forgotten.

So whether you live close enough of little league ballfields to hears the crowds on game night; or the football stadium to hear the bands in the fall; let it take you back sometime. It’s a nice trip.