by Laura Bradford
As I get older, I find that flashes of the present transport me into the past all the time. And each time it happens, it's like an unexpected gift that almost always leaves me with a smile on my face.
It happened again just last night. My husband and I went to see Fiddler on the Roof at a nearby dinner theater. The first number in the show--Traditions--was an instant flash back to a time when Dear Daughter # 1 (who is closing in on 18) was just ten. She was part of an amazing kids' production of Fiddler during the year I homeschooled her and her sister.
Then, later on in the show, the four male actors start doing the bottle-dance. And, once again, I was back in that auditorium, watching my little girl dancing with a bottle atop her head. I could see the concentration and pride on her face as the audience clapped. I saw the momentary disappointment when, during one of the performances, the bottle slipped off her hat the last time she rose from her knees.
Boom. Eight years disappeared before my eyes.
And I loved every single moment of it.
These flashes happen often. For both girls. Sometimes, they're triggered by a song. Sometimes, they're triggered by a book. Sometimes, they're triggered by the girls, themselves--a certain smile or look. But no matter what it is, I'm always so grateful for the trip down memory lane.