In the end, all we have are the memories.

 It's the end of summer and I've been spending a lot of time with my soon-to-be 12 year old granddaughter before she goes back to school next week. We've been swimming in the afternoons and we've had pedicures. She's gel-coated my nails and added copper tinsel to my hair. She's repaired one of my beaded bracelets and made a new one from tiny buttons. (Buttons, btw, that were left over from when I knitted her a sweater when she was baby.)

We are creating memories. Much like the memories my late mother-in-law created for her grandchildren. I have great memories of my grandparents and, now, I have the great privilege of making memories with my grandchildren.

Sometimes making memories is exhausting. Like holidays and family reunions. The preparation. The noise. I also spend most of the school year with my granddaughter and her brother. Four out of five days, I'm involved in getting them to or from school. By the end of the year, I'm ready for a long break.

It's all a loving chaos. Family soup. Toss in all the ingredients and most of the time, you end up with something unexpectedly good that warms the soul.

Today, three of the gel nails are still hanging on, most of the tinsel has fallen out, and I have knots in my hair. But I also have the memories and I hope she cherishes them as much as I do.