Superimposition

In our butcher's shop yesterday a family - which included a mom, dad, and two little boys - stood ahead of me in line. Perusal of the meats, cheeses, and specialty foods held their attention.

As a mother and grandmother, my attention naturally gravitated to the little boys, one about three years older than the other, the same age difference as my now-adult sons. I'd say they were around four and seven years old. In whispers, the older boy enthusiastically informed his little brother about the display case contents, pointing out hot dogs and cheddar cheese, pickles, and whole chickens. 

Memories of my own boys at those ages flooded my thoughts. 

Transported back in time, I relived two little kids running errands with me during the day, so well-behaved, looking at the store's offerings with curiosity, the older educating and minding the younger, just as these two tykes in the butcher shop were doing. I found myself superimposing my sons onto these curious boys as I delighted in their carefree antics. 

As I waited my turn I revelled in cherished memories of our mommy-and-me adventures, so many, such fun, my sweet boys.

Then, I realized I had been looking at the family the whole time, mostly at the little boys. I was happy remembering those good days when my kids were little, the main focus of my life.

But I think my gaze made the mom uncomfortable. I feared she thought I was critiquing her family. Her husband was making a very large order, customers were lining up behind me in the small shop, and she and her boys were the center of attention because they were literally in the middle of the store, where they had to be. She glanced at me, gave a nervous smile, then made sure the kids stayed close to her and didn't bump into anyone. The boys were on their best behavior. 

I returned to the present and gave her my most assuring smile. I winked at the little boys, who shyly grinned back at me.  

"There are a lot of interesting things in this shop, aren't there?" I said to the boys. My words and demeanor put them all at ease. The mom returned my smile, relaxed. The boys nodded and said, "Yes!"

I offer this insight to young people. Sometimes, when older people are watching you, they are reliving decades of memories sparked by your young family, your young coupledom, or even your singleness. Our brains run memories we forget we have. This can be very sweet, or painful, or just surprising for us. Our faces may look stern as we concentrate on holding precious memories for as long as we can - or feeling strong emotions from them. We are deep in thought. 

It's good for us to remember, to relive sweet, happy times. It's a blessing. 

And the painful memories? They are important, too. They remind us that life can be hard, but we are still alive, and hopefully these memories give us hope as we see how far we have come. 

So, though our faces may not be smiling, it doesn't necessarily mean we are irritated. It can very well, and perhaps most often, mean we have traveled back in time for a moment to a wonderful place where joy happened, and you or your kids provided the portal. 

We are most grateful.

Thank you for understanding. 

And may you find as much pleasure one day in future superimpositions of the memories you are creating right now.