|Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking|
Five Minute Friday: Roots
i'm going to assume we're not talking about the insane amount of gray roots i found this morning when i put my hair in a pony tail. i mean, i had more than my fair share of gray hair at 20 and i have no desire to find out what it looks like now, eight years later, when it isn't dyed. i'll age gracefully, just not yet.
where was i?
my grandpa came to town awhile ago for a few days. he and my grandmother always stay with my parents and i usually end up spending more time at their house than mine for the weekend. i love them. i love hearing stories about when they were younger. i love hearing about where they come from and how they got here. i love love love when they tell me stories about when my dad was young and the things he got into. i also love hearing them and my dad tell the same story from their completely different viewpoints.
i have a picture deep in the old photo albums of me and my grandpa and i think my sister, at the Air Force Museum, standing in front of one of the planes my grandpa flew. (still blows my mind to think he flew planes.) i feel like i have the world's worst long term memory so i don't remember much about being there that day, but i know that it is something that delights him to talk about - flying - the Air Force - those days.
for awhile i have been saying that i want to go with him and my little girls to the Air Force Museum. and so, after putting it off we finally did. and we got a picture with him, and me and my little ones in front of one of the planes he flew (ok, maybe in front of ALL of the planes he flew). i need to dig up both pictures and put them side by side.
i love it. these are the people i come from. these are the stories i need to learn so that when they are no longer able to tell them, i can. these are the people who told my dad, who told me, about Jesus.
that's a legacy.
those are roots.