My sister, my cousins, and I used to spend the night with my grandparents every Saturday night. It was tradition. On those Saturday nights, my papaw used to help us catch fireflies. We would put them in mason jars and poke holes in the lid. Then we would take them to our room at bedtime and we would fall asleep watching our fireflies light up our world. Most of the time, we kept them in the mason jar. But on occasion, when my granny wasn't looking, my papaw would let us turn them loose in the house. I liked it when we could turn them loose. I always loved stars and the night sky. And I would pretend those fireflies were my very own star when they were flying around the room. And all was right with the world.....until granny noticed dozens of fireflies flying around her house, haha.
Christmas Day marked the three year anniversary of my papaw's leaving this world for a better place. I wanted to write about him at length that day....but I still find it too painful. One day I hope to be able write about him and the great man he was to me. But I know no words could ever do him justice.
So here is some advice from a smarty pants who happens to have no children. Parents, your children most likely won't remember which popular toy they received for Christmas the year they turned six. They won't remember how many friends were at their eighth birthday party. And I doubt they have fond memories of their first cellphone at the age of nine. But they will remember random things like firefly lamps and stories about the man in the moon. That's my random thought for the day...for what it's worth.
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