Day 260

My run through Bessemer today jogged so many memories, which, I guess, makes sense: I ran the road that connects my parents' house to my granmother's. I rested on a rock at the quarry where I learned to swim. I paused at the run-down field where I cheered on PeeWee players and where, I hear, practices still take place.

Recently, my uncle told me that, years later, kids don't really remember the specific details of their day-to-day. Rather, they just gather a sense of the experiences overall. And maybe apply the feelings they had to photographs that actually captured moments of the moments.

So what then, 20 years from now, will my boys remember of this day? The one when Aunt Kate and her roommate hooked them up with field-level spots at Pirates batting practice and a suite for the game. The one where the whole fam rallied (Grandma and Papa, Uncle Ange and Aunt Casey, Mom, Dad, and Aunt Kate)... when it took an hour for our dinners to come out and everything was partly wrong... Of the game where there was cotton candy and... there was, randomly, in from Dallas...Dan Jay.

Dan Jay, our kid-hood comrade from two doors down, who is wrapped into just about every summer childhood memory of mine - from baseball games and lemonade stands to bike races and tiffs over GI Joe guys.

What, when they look back, will my boys remember? What do you remember?