Sassafras Memories
Last night I was in the studio painting I got lost in the moment and lost track of time. I realized time had slipped away from me just as my painting began to evolve. I decided to take a break and get a quick bite to eat and drink. I made a cold cut sandwich and grabbed a root beer. It had been years since I drank a root beer. I popped the top and took a big drink instantly in that moment I was flooded with so many childhood memories of my grandfather and his sassafras tree. I am not sure why I waited so long to remember the taste of my childhood.
Perhaps subconsciously It was how I dealt with the loss of my grandfather even though it has been many years since he passed away from Alzheimer. I began to really think about what made me avoid the root beer for so long and it hit me. I was fearful of replacing all those wonderful sacred memories and moments I had with my grandfather while enjoying a root beer or climbing his Sassafras tree with new memories made while enjoying a root beer. I am sure that may sound silly to many, but to me it made perfect sense. I enjoyed my can of root beer with a salute to my grandfather and all those wonderful memories. My world did not end and my memories did not fade, in fact my memories are more vivid after allowing myself to truly taste a can of root beer and my childhood.
Sunday visits to my grandparents house were always filled with adventure, family and an opportunity to learn. A Sunday feast was prepared by the worlds greatest chef the matriarch of our family and the greatest women I know my grandmother. After dinner walks on the eleven acres on which their house sat or the beautiful beaches of Lake Michigan were teaching moments for them and learning moments for us. In the summer we would often walk to the small creek just down the dirt road and skip stones or toss in a penny or two and make a wish. I loved spending my summers at their house I learned to compost, garden, cook, make jam, ride a bike, shoot a BB gun, build a handmade kite and fly it. Making crafts and creating art was always encouraged. Brown paper grocery bags cut open was perfect for coloring. At my grandparents house I learned the true meaning of love and family.
My grandparents were so invested in each of their grandchildren they did not spoil us with monetary or material things, but rather with their love and time and those memories are what I will cherish forever. I am now a grandparent and I only hope I can live up to my grandparents standards. I hope that my grandson and future grandchildren will one day cherish the time we spent together and the memories we made.
