Creature Feature
I was about thirteen and Tina was about eleven when we developed one of our favorite Saturday routines.
Here in the Tampa Bay area, we had a local television show called Creature Feature, hosted by the unforgettable Dr. Paul Bearer. It showed wonderfully cheesy old horror movies—the kind that were supposed to be scary, but usually had Tina and me laughing instead.
We would settle into our beanbag chairs and spend Saturday watching whatever monsters happened to be on the screen that week.
Mom worked hard and wasn't the kind of mother who spent her days at home baking cookies. But she had a soft spot for Tina and always seemed to find little ways to make her feel special when she was with us.
On those Saturdays, that often meant cookies.
At some point during the movie, Mom would bring us a plate and put it between our two beanbags. There we'd sit—Tina and me, eating Mom's cookies, watching ridiculous old monsters and laughing our way through the afternoon.
There was nothing extraordinary about it to us then. It was simply what we did on Saturdays.
But I've learned that some of our most precious memories aren't made during the big occasions. They're hidden inside ordinary afternoons—the people we loved, the laughter we shared, and the little acts of kindness we didn't yet understand were important.
When I think about those Saturdays now, I can still picture those two beanbags, Mom's cookies sitting between us, and Tina and me laughing at monsters that weren't very scary at all.
Sometimes, that's what love looks like: making someone feel special without ever needing to tell them why.