Running in Circles

I have three children who have the same age differences as my parents' first three children. As I watch my little ones, I am often reminded of my childhood with my sisters: when play was our main occupation, summer was a time to be bored, and the calendar was just a paper with squares on it.

My dad drove a track into the weeds in our back yard so we could run races. I was the oldest, but my sister (who was 3 ½ years younger than me) was actually hard to beat. The youngest of our trio was always trailing behind, calling for us to "WAIT!" This sister wasn't fun to play "tag" with either. If we ran away too fast, she would cry. If we tagged her, she would cry. If we didn't tag her, she would cry.

But she was very sweet. When I was five and she was a plump baby she would snuggle with me. I remember holding her and wishing I could always remember how good it felt. I always have. This is saying a lot because I only remember a few things from when I was five.

Our Grandfather's funeral brought us together recently. After the luncheon, my sister and I headed down a dirt road to play badminton with our family. The sun was shining on our backs, the fresh mountain air tasted good, and we all felt at peace about Grandpa. All of a sudden, our younger sister was pretend-running up the road behind us, calling "WAIT! WAIT!"

It's funny how a moment like that can warp me back in time twenty-five years.

Only this time, we laughed, waited for her, and then walked together.