Capture Moments

 

As the years pass my memories have gotten hazy. I don't admit this proudly in fact I carry a bit of shame in acknowledging it. Because I know that those memories that I visit often have not gotten lost inside the twisted paths of my mind. Those frequented memories are crisp and clear.  Like this day.

 

I can still smell the leaves and hear them crunch under my feet.  I can see hear my Daddy's voice as I hand him my then little baby daughter.  I can even recall the smell of his cologne.  I remember how Biking Sherpa was not in the best of moods that day and how all the grandkids were much too energetic for a family photo shot.  All these memories bring a smile to my face today.  For you it is just September 25th. 

 

For me today is 8 years since I heard my Daddy speak. It was the last day I had the chance to see him or hold his hand.  I didn't know then how precious that was.  My Daddy was not a super hero.  He wasn't perfect, I'm sure.  But he was the kind of dad, the kind of person that is rare to come across.  I hit the jackpot and had him as my dad.  He taught me lessons that I am still learning today.  But he also left behind my mother.  A woman who stood beside him day in and day out.  I all too often forget that while my Daddy isn't here to turn to, she is.  She is full of all those things that my Daddy was.  While I will allow tears today as I think of things that I wish my Daddy was here to share in, it will only be for today.  There are so many people in my life that share those same memories and those who I need to teach those memories to. 

 

My Daddy helped make us all strong and family-focused, maybe that was part of why he was given to us.  To help us be better prepared to continue on when he had to leave us.  Today I will do everything I can to show him that he did a great job.  And this Saturday when I am climbing that mountain in Pennsylvania, when my legs are screaming that I just can't go any farther, that is when I will reach down into that Smith strength that Daddy took me to store up and I will find a way to keep going.  I will make him proud because I know he will be with me.

Cove Creek Farm ~ Memories

This post has little to do with running but everything to do with the person I am.

Memories are like fingerprints. Tiny bits of information that are so unique no two people actually share ones that are perfectly the same. While some may enjoy a cinematic ability to stroll through their lives and revisit the days in their past, others struggle to bring into focus the aged Polaroid-like snapshots hiding in our minds. Unfortunately my memories are the latter but the the memories I can bring into focus often contain moments of growing up on my grandfather's farm.

With the help of photographs I can find those memories that have become blurry in my mind.  I can clearly see the hay elevator sitting in front of the haymow doors.  I can hear the hum of the tractors as they bring in wagons of hay.  I can remember the smells in the air.  I can see my grandfather as sweat drips from his forehead.

As I look at photos I can remember days spent in the barn hiding away from chores.  Sitting in the grain stores painting with water colors stolen from my older sister.  I can remember hushed conversations with girl friends and stolen kisses with boyfriends.  I can remember my grandparent's voices as I remember my grandmother calling me in for lunch and my grandfather scolding me when he caught me building another fort in the barn.

But most importantly I can envision things that I never got to see. I can imagine how my great-grandfather worked along side my grandfather in this barn. The thought that their very hands touched the same doors as I did. Knowing that although I never knew my mother as a child, I have shared the same playground with her in growing up in this barn makes me feel as though I am somehow closer to her. Thinking that she might have stolen kisses in this barn from my father when they were dating makes me grieve even more for the loss of this place and the moments that it held

Even in the loss of a piece of my history, I am beyond grateful for every moment I was blessed to live within it.  I remind myself that it is only in the looking back that we can clearly see how to move forward.  So I will share my fleeting memories with my family and friends to help a small piece of my past to live on in each of them.  Then soon there will be so many people holding those fragmented bits of family history that it will never be forgotten. 

Cove Creek Farm

Doris June Barrack Diehl and Max Robert Diehl

I credit myself a failure

When I was in grade school we did a play.  I think it was called I Want an Elephant for Christmas.  It was turned into a Peanuts play.  Think Charlie Brown.  I was Sally.  I thought it was fate that the teachers had cast Scotty Waugerman as Linus because I LOVED him.  Scotty, not Linus.

Well, my little grade school self thought I loved him. 


So I thought it was sweet that my own little girl recently confided in me that she has a crush on a little boy in her class.  It so happens that little boy was the main snowman in their recent Christmas play. 

Life can be sweet.  All tied up in a pretty little bow. 

As things would have it once in the middle school when boys finally discovered girls (at least in my era), Scotty Waugerman didn't like me like that.  He liked my older sister.  Isn't that always the way.  The bow comes untied.  Life doesn't work out the way we had planned. 

It seems at times I'm a little bit more like Charlie Brown than Sally.  There are more days when the ball gets yanked away.  That might get a person down if it were not for the days when you kick the ball.  Sometimes it's just a little contact with the ball and other days it's a winning field goal kind of connection. 

Maybe you have been having a string of down days.  Days when you are left feeling down and defeated.  Perhaps wondering why you even got up that morning.  Feeling like you are a failure.

You can only credit yourself with being a failure if you have tried!  To be a failure shows you saw the ball, took aim and charged!

There isn't anything beyond your ability.  There are only things you haven't successfully tried yet.  The important thing is to remember that being able to say you failed means at least you had the courage to try.

What will you do today to be able to credit yourself a potential failure?