Will They Remember?

The small, yellow-brick house
With only one bathroom and a dripping sink
And a front door that is impossible to close
That three generations grew up in
Will they remember?
Sitting at the kitchen table
Painting pictures, molding Play-doh, and carving pumpkins
Sitting for an hour trying to finish their dinner
Will they remember?
Walking with Daddy as he rototills the garden
Raking big piles of leaves and sifting out the walnuts
Podding peas and shucking corn on lawn chairs
And wading knee-deep in our irrigated yard
Will they remember?
Our family grows together
As we walk the Riverwalk trail on Sundays
Run on the track across the street
Drive together chasing heavy black rain clouds
And huddle on the sofa for storytime.
Will they remember?
In a small house packed with chaos
Wrestling
Laughing
Long stories
And movies with microwave popcorn
Will my children remember how they were raised?