There are many things that I remember about our nana and papa.  And in an overall view of what my childhood was like, most of those memories somehow involved food.  Things such as my nana always having m&m’s stocked in the pantry, it was a staple.  A restaurant they would always take us to that wove bread into the shape of alligators, it was super cool at the ripe age of eight.  Each of us picking out our own pint of ice cream for sundaes to accompany movie watching in their den.  Boating and picnics always including a can of Planters Potato Sticks, and although I loved, I don’t think I’ve had since.  At their house, you could find every flavor of Check soda imaginable, including my all-time favorite, grape.  I remember chucking gum out my papas car window on a trip to Busch Gardens, but not quite hard enough. And when we got out and saw the pink melt-down of bubble on the side of his Caprice Classic in the sweltering sun, I denied that it was mine.

But at that age, food was just a small strand that ran brighter in the intricate weave of memories they made with us.  And looking back, potato sticks are just a funny part of my recollection of times that also included woven rice mats in the sand and the patience and discriminating eye of my nana for collecting shells.  And recounting all that we loved and learned, there was so much more set forth in our days together left for us to unravel someday downstream. 

And this was just one of those days specked by a canoe trip down the Alafia River.  A 10.5 mile stretch of paddling that was oh, so familiar.  It was just one of the many adventures my papa used to take us on.  And there my brother Brad and I were, twenty-some-odd years later, reaching deep into our nostalgia and uncovering memories alongside the downward stroke of new ones being made.  And even more importantly, we were initiating a new member in our rowing adventure, my niece Aubrey.

There are so many stories to tell about this day…

…about how proud we felt launching our papas beautiful canoe, fulfilling the momentum of his legacy.  A little piece of his big, big world he left behind for us.

So many memories to recount, but so many of them just strands in her growing ball to unravel as she may.  When the can of Pringles we shared is not nearly as relevant as the laughter and love and adventure we etched into our hearts that day.  Someday, downstream.

My mama said it best, “Papa was looking down on us with one big smile.”

Papa, we were smiling, big time, right back atcha.

Suggested Listening:  Two of Us  /  Aimee Mann