Y Is for Yesterday's Memories

Today is the next-to-the-last day of April A to Z Blogging Challenge. I'm going to be honest. I didn't know if I could pull it off this year. I'm glad I tried!

During the month of April, I've been sharing about the things that make my life better - some things have been small, like a Diet Pepsi. Some things have included people. Let me just say that a variety of things makes my life better!

Yesterday’s memories don’t always come clearly.

Sometimes they’re soft around the edges—more feeling than detail. Glimpses instead of full scenes. A laugh I can almost hear. A room I can almost picture. Moments that feel familiar, even if I can’t quite hold onto them.

I find myself drifting back there every now and then.

Back to when my mom was alive—the first fifteen years of my life. Those memories feel the most hazy, like looking through an old window that’s been gently fogged over time. I wish I could recall more, hold onto them more tightly. I can't remember her voice. I wonder if I sound like her? But even in their softness, there’s something steady there. A sense of being loved. Of being cared for. Of something foundational that shaped me, even if I can’t name every detail.

Our mom holding me - my oldest sister in the back right-
she died a little over a year ago
Becky is in the front right

my momma was pretty!

Back to when my dad was alive—those first twenty-five years. His voice is clearer. His advice, steady and consistent…even when I didn’t want to hear it. Even when I didn’t agree.

Especially then. My sister and I say quite often, "I wish I could talk to daddy about that."

We loved to swing - my daddy and me

This is the sandbox my
daddy built for me - it
was amazing!

It’s funny how time has a way of reshaping those moments. Things I once pushed back against now feel like gifts. Words I didn’t fully appreciate then have settled into something deeper—something I carry with me, often without even realizing it.

And then there are the memories of growing up in our neighborhood.

Hours and hours spent with neighborhood kids - at one time there were 17 kids on our street (and just around the corner). We were riding bikes, playing kickball, playing softball, singing in the swing, playing Barbies and staying outside or at the neighbor's house until we were called home for dinner. No schedules. No screens - except the ones on our windows! Just the freedom of playing and the simplicity of those days.

just the girls in our neighborhood

Those memories feel lighter somehow. Easier to step into. Full of laughter and movement and a special kind of joy.

Not every memory is easy.

There are sorrows tucked in there too. Losses. Changes. Moments that shaped me in ways I didn’t ask for.

But when I allow myself to step back—really step back—and look at it all together, I see something I might miss otherwise.

I see how every piece mattered. Yesterday's memories make a gorgeous multi-colored quilt.

The people. The conversations. The love. The disagreements. The laughter. The loss.

All of it.

All of the memories.

The colorful pieces and crazy shapes are woven together into the person I am today.

Taking time to remember doesn’t pull me backward—it grounds me.

It reminds me where I’ve been. Who has loved me. What has formed me.

And on the days when life feels a little too full or a little too heavy, that kind of remembering has a way of making everything just a little bit better.

So today, I’ll linger there for a moment.

Not to stay—but to remember.

Because yesterday, in all its imperfect, beautiful pieces…

is still a gift.

What are some of your favorite memories - especially from your childhood?