I'm doing a 52 question count down, based on the 36 question article by the NY Times.
Blah blah blah, I took thirty minutes to write a very touching story about my most treasured memory, and now that it's lost, you get the cheap carbon copy cliff notes.
What is your most treasured memory
Raindrops on roses… whiskers on kittens, babies first laugh, first breath, and first step. There are a hundred to choose from, or even more. I think if we were managing the bank of memories, we'd find that, like children, they aren't ranked or filed as well as some might expect.
I imagine a file cabinet with a drawer labeled "Favorite Memories." when you open that drawer you see that they aren't neatly placed in folders, they aren't in alphabetical, chronological, or some psychotic OCD ranking system. they are very gracefully piled in there, like a kid with a box of treasures, one is only on top because it has the pleasure of being taken out most recently to be played with.
With that in mind, there are two memories that sit on the top, one is of a perfect morning, waking up too early to the sound of vacuuming, dishes washing, and little feet scrambling all over the house. When I came downstairs, the kitchen was clean, the floor was mopped, and little hands were hard at work at chores they were never given, tasks that were never handed out. When we look in the books of miracles that filled our lives, I know I'll see this day as one of them, the day the children, single handedly organized a house cleaning party, just because.