It's strange the memories we cherish. Though there are many wonderful, serious, important moments of my life that include my grandfather, it was the little snapshots that ranged at the forefront of my mind this past weekend.
... bags of circus peanuts... snapping his belt above our heads... the wonderful sandbox he painstakingly created for us on the lake... trips in the boat... "learning" to ski & "learning" to dive (two things I still NEVER attempt)... a tall glass of water with no ice each night at dinner... throwing us in the water ... mechanical toys... practical jokes... raisin bran cereal... his ongoing battle with the beavers... getting letters from the great Grand PAW Oz....
Why is it that the seemingly insignificant moments are the ones we cherish most in life?
