The Bridge

At my wife's grandmother's house there is an old rickety single lane bridge that crosses over a small creek. There isn't anything especially spectacular about this bridge except all the childhood memories that span multiple generations that it has been a part of. My wife and all of her cousins share memories about being at Grandmother's and "going down to the bridge". In fact, this bridge and it's memories are so important that one thing my wife shared with me on my first trip to her grandmother's was "walking to the bridge". Now, this tradition has passed on to their kids and now multitudes of great grandchildren have made the trek down to the bridge.

Yesterday Seth gathered up everyone because he wanted to "go to the bridge". So, Shelley, April, Seth and I went to the bridge and threw rocks off the bridge into the creek. I don't know what it is about this bridge but it has captured the imaginations of many a child and now it has become a part of my son's childhood memories.