We were shopping, getting ready for company this weekend, and I was on a mission to pick up some cheese. As I did I noticed that I was going by a display of spray whipped cream. I suddenly burst out laughing. It caught the notice of people who were all, at that moment, looking like shopping was really serious business. Here's why I laughed:
Last time Ruby was here, to go to the ballet, we were about to finish dinner with a bit of dessert. Joe had picked up some strawberries and was cutting them into bowls. Ruby asked, 'Can I have ice cream with mine?' Joe said, 'Sorry, Ruby, we don't have any ice cream.' Pause. 'Can I have some whipped cream with mine?' Again Joe said, 'Sorry, Ruby, we don't have any whipped cream.' Pause. Pause. Then, 'You guys need to take a kid shopping with you to make sure you get what you need.'
It struck me funny then. It struck me even funnier as I was sailing by on a cheese mission and not picking up the essentials.
Memory gives little gifts like that doesn't it?
I reminded Joe of the conversation when we were on our way home. We laughed all over again. It was like a tiny drop of joy that fell into the ocean of our day. Lovely.
Lovely that memory can do that.
It left me wondering, not in a morbid way, if I am making sure to build memories in the minds of others. After all it is in memory that I will live long after I'm gone. Have I built a shelter for myself in the minds of those I love? Am I making sure that there are those moments when, someone in the future, will stop and laugh at the mere thought of something we did, or that I said, or that happened when we were together. Will my spirit appear in that laughter?
Am I doing enough?
Saturday morning we are making 'Easter Pancakes' ... which is simply putting jelly beans into pancake batter so that there can be an Easter Egg hunt to start the day ... I hope that becomes a memory. Sunday we are going for lunch up the CN Tower so Ruby can talk to God and Sadie can wave at the tiny cars down on the street far below, I hope that builds a memory.
I have fought for accessibility and inclusion most of my adult life. I have to remember that it's not all fight - that sometimes it needs to be about being accessible to those I love and making sure that those who love me, and those who I love, are included into that time that I seem never to have.
Whipped cream will always make me smile.
I want more magic.
I want to be magic.
Perhaps those jelly beans will grow into a beanstalk that reaches right into heaven.