I’m the type of person that thinks talking with someone double or triple my age is almost always down right interesting. They have so many stories to tell. Love stories, stories about their children, stories about the adventures they went on; everyone has a story. Of course people remember the hard times and the tragedies but mostly, they will tell you about the moments they loved the most.
My mom and dad tell me stories about when they first met. My mom spent her days at a local pool, life guarding and catching a tan. She also caught my dad’s eye, and he stole her heart. The beginning of love stories are always the best if you ask me.
My mom tells me about the moments spent with my brother and I when we were kids, how she loved spending her days at the playground with us. If you ask her, she remembers that we would act out or throw tantrums, but she says, in a sense she has almost forgotten about those moments. The hard moments hiccup a day, but very rarely touch the overall story of you.
My grandmother tells me stories about my mom as a baby. How she would squeal and play and eat just about anything. Mothers always remember the joyful stories about their children.
Although I’m not yet very old, I have stories to tell. If you asked me about the last year, I would remember some of the harder parts; the stress of selling our first home and sleepless nights with a new baby. But the stories I would tell you first would be of sun soaked days watching my toddler play, while I rocked a newborn baby on our front porch. The nights spent driving around so that the baby would sleep weren’t ill memories, they were warm summer nights with the windows down and sunroof open, holding my husbands hand. I would remember the times my husband showed me how much he loved me, without saying a word.
The long run stories, are always beautiful. Now, at the end of any given day if you asked me how my day went, often it is the negative things that come to mind first. The kids were cranky at the grocery store, the dogs got into the trash, my boss was unhappy with me, etc. At the same time that the negative things are rolling off of my tongue, I can also name just as many sweet moments from my day; my boys were holding hands and giggling on our ride home and my husband sent me sweet texts in the afternoon. So why is it that my first thoughts were negative? Is it that the negative, because it is stressful, oftentimes outweighs the positive in the short term? Could be. But once I’ve had a moment to calm down and get over those everyday stresses, the positive shines through. When I think of it that way, those stresses aren’t all that significant after all. Life is too beautiful to let the stress of daily life get me down or fill up my thoughts first. I’m going to let them roll off my sleeve and make room for the beauty in life.
Years from now, when you’re rocking in your rocking chair, telling stories from your life, I bet they will be beautiful ones, full of highlights, not rants over grocery store tantrums. So live each day, like it’s going into the pages a novel, spend less time focusing on the small negatives and savor the positives. Write a beautiful story.
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