Friday, September 15, 2006

Things can sneak up on you ...

We went to church on Sunday. There is a new minister, whom I had never met. Her husband got up to play the offertory on his accordion, and I. Fell. Apart.

If you would have asked me what I remember about my grandpa Don (from whom Spencer got his middle name) I would have said I remember dancing with him, I remember him calling square dances in the basement while all the kids danced around him, I remember sitting in the den eating Cheetos and watching "Hee-Haw" and "The Muppet Show" with him. The fact that he played the accordion would have gotten no mention.

But here I was, in church, having this, well, MOMENT. All because of an accordion.

Thank goodness for my husband, who is somewhat used to me falling apart for no apparent reason, and for Kleenex.

This week I was pulling pix off a site I'm shutting down and I found this from about 1973.

I miss him.

5 comments:

  1. Dear Daughter: Amazing how you can reduce me to tears nearly everytime I read your blog - this entry did it big-time. Even after nearly 15 years, I, too, wish he was still here with us. He's missed so much in our lives and he would have adored his great--grandchildren!!! The photo certainly shows he adored you! Thanks! Love, Mom

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  2. You just never know when the past is going to come out and grab you huh?

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  3. Susan2:58 PM

    I often have those sight, sound or scent triggered memories. It's funny what can take you back into your younger years that you'd forgotten about.

    Just yesterday I told Bobby that when he comes home from school it reminds me of when I was a kid...he smells like my mom did when she got home from work at her school. Wonder what it is that's common between the two buildings, certainly not age, that makes them smell the same.

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  4. Aw. How cute are you? And how special are those memories you have. Hold onto those Jennifer. And you will see him again.

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  5. And to think, I just think about Weird Al Yankovic when I hear an accordion. Yours is a much better memory.

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