On the long list of things I’m taking care of now, that I’m retired, is going through boxes of photos. Somewhere along the way, we stopped putting photos in albums, and put them into boxes “for sorting later”. That later has arrived.

Going through old photos is always bittersweet, but mostly sweet. Yes, I’m encountering photos of those who are no longer with us, including my dad. And I’m encountering photos of those who have grown up a long time ago. This one is both.

I think Arianna(and I’m calling her that because of this photo) must have been 3-4 years old here, which puts this about as the summer 2005 or so. It was taken at Summit on the Park, a park in our town of Canton, MI. There’s a lot of things I love about this photo, even though it’s not really a prize winning shot of either of them.

For one thing, I realized that all the grownups in our kids’ lives really, really LOVED holding the hands of little kids. Arianna was so little in this photo that she could only hold onto your finger, and had to reach up to do it. I have memories of her even younger, when she barely could reach your finger.

Second, it’s my dad(and my mom is behind me when I took the picture). They were such good grandparents(mom still is), so supportive, and taking the kids out to do things here in Michigan, and back in Texas. This park is pretty close, but they would “pack up” a bunch of things: bicycles and helmets, backpacks, hats, picnic baskets and blankets, sandwiches, drinks, cups, etc. I remember the kids knowing that snacks were in their immediate future, and, very soon after arrival at the park, asking “can we have lunch yet?”

Thirdly, this photo evokes a rich treasure of similar memories of those years. Mom and Dad were recently retired, and active and visited often. The kids always looked forward to seeing them, and doing stuff with them, whether in the backyard, at nearby parks, or just messing around in the house. There was a lot of happy noise back then. Cyndi used to remark that “Where is the pitter patter of little feet?! All I can hear is elephants upstairs!”

I know we can’t hang onto people forever, or hang onto when the kids were little, or anything else in our pasts. But these memories are precious, and I’m hanging onto them, as I sort these photos. Miss you, Dad.