If you’ve come from a loving family, you’ll likely be able to think back to the beautiful memories made as you grew up. From family holiday’s all the way to those Tuesday afternoon’s after school playing snooker with your Grandpa. Now, I appreciate the latter example is rather specific, but I find truly focusing on the details can almost take you back in time, placing yourself in those very moments.
Throughout some of my younger years, my sister and I would be picked up by our Grandparents every Tuesday afternoon after school. As with any old memories from childhood, I find I can only gleam snippets or some of the most distinctive memories. We must have taken that car journey dozens of times, but the most memorable were those when my Nana had just been swimming with a friend. The car would have a distinctive 2000’s Skoda new car smell, mixed with chlorine. It was unique, but certainly not unpleasant. If I were to somehow recreate that smell, I’m certain it would take me instantly back to that time, and perhaps make those memories clearer.
Briefly going forward to today, my sister recently visited our Grandparents. She was almost instantly greeted with soup, followed by cake and biscuits. She didn’t expect this, although it was certainly appreciated. It represents in a big way the kind of person my Nana is. Going back to being picked up from school, Nana would make us two, sometimes three slices of buttered-peanut butter toast on milk roll bread. You heard that right, there’s something about the fat on fat combination of butter and peanut butter that really hits the spot. This would often be followed by 3 or 4 Maryland cookies. This was all only an hour before she’d make our tea. I was a rather skinny kid growing up, so I probably needed it. If it wasn’t for my Nana, I probably wouldn’t have made it those couple of inches taller than the two generations before me…
Following this, I’d sometimes play a game of snooker with my Grandpa. When he was growing up, he would often play on this table with his dad and school friends. His friends even formed a small competitive league for some time. Of course, when I played I didn’t know or appreciate any of this. I was too busy making my own memories with my Grandpa, who would be playing no longer with his old school pals, but with his Grandson. I remember playing one particular shot which resulted in one of the coloured balls sitting directly between the cue ball and the last remaining red ball on the table, to which my Grandpa exclaimed “You’ve been snookered!”. I didn’t understand what that word meant at the time, but I didn’t ask, because although I’ve never been a quick thinker, this one seemed obvious. It looks like I had indeed been “snookered!”.
Perhaps these are the experiences that soften a heart, and as we navigate through the many highs and lows found in adulthood, we’d do well not to allow our heart to be hardened.
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