Today's prompt is, "What's your favorite childhood memory?".
So, here goes...
My favorite childhood memory involves a very special man. Unlike so many other girls, the first man I wanted to marry wasn't my Dad. The first man I wanted to marry, and I even asked him to, was my Mom's Dad. Instead of "Grandpa", I called him Ghiddu (I actually have no idea how to spell it, but it's Arabic).
The beginning of my life was kind of a mess. Needless to say, we lived with my Mom's parents - my Grandma and Ghiddu - for quite a while. Even when we didn't live with them, I spent much time at their house, doing things with them, or traveling with them.
Most of my special memories involve this man. One of my very favorite being our fruit parties.
My grandparents always had fruit in their house. In the late mornings or afternoons, my Ghiddu and I would sit down with an old popcorn can as our "table" and eat apples, plums, nectarines, apricots, pears, and who knows what else. I remember his soft, dark hands carefully peeling and slicing our fruit. He peeled and sliced in his hands as we ate.
We would sit and nibble on whatever the fruit was and talk. Sometimes we would be in the house. Every once in a while we'd take the party outside.
I fell in love....over fruit!
Who knew something so simple, from so long ago could make me happy even now?
(I wish I had some pictures of these...I don't know that any were ever taken.)