Pockets

Every time Emmy wears this cute little shirt with pockets in the front, she asks, “Have a piece of canny to put in my pocket?” One day, a couple of months ago, I gave her a little Tootsie Roll to put in her pocket. Even though that was the only time I gave her a piece of candy to put in her pocket, she always remembers and asks me for a piece when I dress her in the shirt with pockets. (That one time? The Tootsie Roll didn’t stay in its wrapper for very long, and soon ended up as a sticky, papery mess in her hands and mouth.)

Pockets have good things in them. Grandpas keep things like mints and gum for little ones to chew; Dads have spare change for the ice-cream truck. Mommies have tissues for little runny noses. Those small things tuck easily into a pocket and bring smiles when they appear. Or if not a smile, at least a “Thanks, Mom,” as the soiled tissue is returned to its giver.

Small things make me smile.

I remember my mom bringing me a small cup of milk to drink before I went to bed at night, because milk was good for my teeth.

I remember seeing my teeny tiny baby sister brought home from the hospital. I was eight, and I was afraid to hold her because I had a cold.

I remember seeing my husband smiling across the gym at me, a couple of weeks after we started dating. He looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl in the world.

What small memories do you have tucked away that make you smile?

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20 Responses to Pockets

  1. I always like to remember what my kids were like as newborns, their slight weight, their warmth, their breath. Curling around them as they slept or singing to them in the rocking chair. They're such brief, personal memories. I've blocked out the colic and projectile vomiting though, that was less than pleasant. ;)Recent blog:=- At Least I’ve Got a Prescription

  2. Those postcards will be great to share with your kids when they're older! (Much, much older, if you want the postcards to survive!)

  3. Kate oh, what a sweet, sweet thing, to carry pockets of memories around… I hold the thimble talks my grandmother used to give me dearly– she had a beautiful collection of thimbles, and would tell me the story behind each one. I probably asked her to do it a thousand times growing up, and I never tired of hearing her talk. I hold the image of my boys ever so carefully holding their baby sister for the first time. I was sitting in my living room chair, near the window, and the sun was peaking through the clouds. A ray of light came streaming in right on my three babes. I remember the time my husband and I drove to the lake in the middle of the winter. We'd just started dating. We stood on the shore in the pitch black night, looking at a switchboard of stars from the town across the bay, and listening to the ice groan and creek. We didn't talk, just held hands and stood there. I think it was then I knew we'd get married.–katehttp://www.theblankiechronicles.com

  4. oh, what a sweet, sweet thing, to carry pockets of memories around…I hold the thimble talks my grandmother used to give me dearly– she had a beautiful collection of thimbles, and would tell me the story behind each one. I probably asked her to do it a thousand times growing up, and I never tired of hearing her talk.I hold the image of my boys ever so carefully holding their baby sister for the first time. I was sitting in my living room chair, near the window, and the sun was peaking through the clouds. A ray of light came streaming in right on my three babes.I remember the time my husband and I drove to the lake in the middle of the winter. We'd just started dating. We stood on the shore in the pitch black night, looking at a switchboard of stars from the town across the bay, and listening to the ice groan and creek. We didn't talk, just held hands and stood there. I think it was then I knew we'd get married.

  5. This post reminds me of a book called "For This I am Grateful"… it's like a coffee table type of book and full of random small moments that are the best! Definitely reminds you to appreciate life…

  6. What a sweet post! I love the detail of pockets, something we may not always think about. For me, it was buttered Zesta crackers at midnight made by my mom when I couldn't sleep; the way my two year old strokes my upper arm without realizing it as a comfort mechanism; and my hubby's pillow when he deploys (he puts a white T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts on it).Recent blog:=- Top Ten Teachings of Daughters

  7. I just love how little ones try to tell us things before they can speakwell. I think I need to get out my video camera and start recording myyoungest before she can talk like her sister!

  8. Giving is it's own reward! I love to watch someone open the gift I've giventhem. I'm sure the people you have written poems for appreciate it somuch! What a special gift!

  9. How fun to remember memories like that. My daughter and I are working on a care package to send to her friend that went off to college. She's 5 and helping me decorate and make some fun treats to send off for her to enjoy.Recent blog:=- Minnie Mouse Disney Cupcakes

  10. Hmm. Small things, thinking……my Mom has done a lot of small, meaningful "thinking of you" things for my brother and I, and I can't express how grateful I am for that. Two or three friends I have act similarly, and I feel really blessed for that.But I'd say the small things that really make me smile are the things I've done for others. I've written poems and letters for people feeling badly to cheer them up; looked for things I was told people would like just because; and yeah, there's an ex-girlfriend I was giving stuff to well after the relationship was over, not because I wanted her back (I broke up with her, and meant it), but because it was a habit.I'm not shy to ask for more, because I know to a degree the more I get, the more I can do, and that's a lot of fun for me.Recent blog:=- On Socrates, Dancing and Philosophy: Xenophon, Symposium II 15-20

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