Sometimes the simplest things make the most special memories.
Every now and then, when I was a child, my parents would load me and my sisters into the station wagon and drive out into the country to Hamilton Airport. Somewhere on the property, there was a little parking lot with a view of the runway. We would pile out of the car and plaster our faces against the chain-link fence, eagerly watching the airplanes take off and land.
Now I have my own family. Tonight, as we ate dinner in the backyard, there seemed to be a steady stream of planes flying overhead. My girls were so busy watching the sky that they could barely choke down their supper. So my husband and I decided to take them on an impromptu evening drive to the airstrip.
Hamilton Airport hasn’t changed much since I was a kid, although a large hangar has replaced the little parking lot. However, there are still plenty of places to watch the runway.
My youngest daughter was a little scared by the size of the planes and the roar of the engines. But my oldest daughter, always the adventurer, thought it was the greatest thing in the world.
On the way home, we spotted some sheep grazing in a small pasture. My husband pulled over so the girls could take a closer look.
We could have just given our kids their after-dinner bath and put them to bed at a decent hour. But I’ve learned from my own childhood that, sometimes, making memories is more important.
I’m grateful for a mom and a dad that took time to make even the simple things special. I try hard to do that for my own kids. My parents taught me that you don’t need an expensive outing or an epic adventure.
Just being together is enough.