Things I Hope Never Go Out of Style

It can be hard to keep up these days.

Every week there's a new trend, a new app, a new software update, a new recipe everyone is trying, or a new product we're told we can't possibly live without. By the time we finally catch up, something else has already taken its place.

There's nothing wrong with enjoying what's new. Some trends are fun. Some products genuinely make life better. But every once in a while, I find myself thinking less about what's changing and more about what I hope never does.

The older I get, the more I realize that many of the moments that have shaped my life weren't extraordinary at all. They were just simple, everyday things that left an imprint on my heart and stuck around for years to come. From handwriting thank-you notes, to playing outside for hours, to flipping through actual photo albums, to knowing our neighbors - those are the things I hope my daughter grows up valuing, too. They've made our lives richer, slower, and more meaningful, and I have a feeling they always will.

These are a few of the things we hope never go out of style.

Handwritten Notes

My mom taught me to write thank-you notes when I was four or five years old, and somehow it became one of those habits that stuck. To this day, I still try to write a card for every wedding gift, baby shower, or housewarming present we receive. I even stock up on the 99-cent cards at Trader Joe's (because they for sure have the best ones), and I love knowing I have one tucked away when a birthday sneaks up on me or a big life moment pops up unexpectedly.

I love texting my friends, and we've probably exchanged two dozen messages by the time a card I mailed finally arrives. But writing it still brings me so much joy. And getting them in the mail does too! Someone picked out a card that reminded them of you. They sat down with their favorite pen, thought through what they wanted to say - or maybe just scribbled from the heart - and dropped it in the mail hoping it would brighten your day.

Years later, those are the things we stumble across tucked inside books or forgotten in the back of a desk drawer. I still have birthday cards, graduation cards, and notes with my grandparents' handwriting that I can't bring myself to throw away. Reading them has a way of transporting you right back to that season of life, and I usually find myself admiring their beautiful cursive while laughing that mine never stood a chance.

Text messages disappear. Snapchat messages disappear even faster. Social media comes and goes. But handwritten words can be cherished. 

Dinner Around the Table

Growing up, finding a night when all of us were home for dinner wasn't always easy. Sports, school, work - everyone seemed to be heading in a different direction. But yet, those are the meals I remember most, even if my brother and I spent half of dinner arguing over something completely unimportant.

Now that I have a family of my own, I find myself wanting to protect that time around the table. The meal doesn't have to be elaborate or Pinterest-worthy. Sometimes it's a brand-new recipe I'm excited to try. Sometimes it's leftovers. Sometimes it's breakfast for dinner because that's simply what the day allowed. But we always eat together. We put our phones away. We pray together. We talk about our day. We laugh, sometimes we disagree, and occasionally dinner takes a little longer because a toddler has other plans.

I hope one day our daughter remembers these evenings the way I remember dinners at home as a kid, or more recently, Sundays together at my mother in laws. YaYa’s spaghetti isn’t the fanciest meal we’ve eaten, but the memories and laughs that flow through her home will linger in our hearts forever (and the smell of her incredible sauce will too!).

Honestly, it makes me want to print out all of my favorite recipes instead of leaving them saved on my phone, just so one day there are flour smudges in the margins and handwritten notes that say, "Add a little more garlic next time." So let the kids help stir the soup. Let flour get all over the counter. Enjoy the house smelling like fresh bread or chili simmering on the stove all afternoon. It’s worth the extra effort because family dinner tables are a sacred space all their own. 

Know Your Neighbors

One of our neighbors growing up welcomed every new family with a list of everyone who lived in the neighborhood - their names, phone numbers, addresses, and even what they did for work. If you needed a dentist, you knew who to call. If a snowstorm rolled through and you needed someone to plow your driveway, there was someone on the list for that too (I grew up on the east coast, in case you couldn’t tell!).

Our front door was almost always open. My dad still laughs about neighborhood kids wandering into our pantry looking for snacks, even when my brother and I weren't home. My mom played Bunco every month with the ladies. There were neighborhood block parties and street-wide tag sales. That was just the kind of neighborhood it was.

So you can imagine my joy and excitement when we moved into our neighborhood here in Texas, one of the first things our neighbors said was, "We have a list too." They host a neighborhood dinner every October, everyone welcomed us when we moved in, and more than one person made sure we knew we could call if we ever needed anything. After living in an apartment for years and never really getting to know anyone around us, this was an answered prayer!

I love waving to people as they pull into their driveway, stopping to chat on an evening walk, letting my daughter pet all the neighborhood puppies, and being able to borrow a ladder to clean our gutters instead of buying one. Just knowing we can keep an eye out for someone’s lost dog or check on a neighbor who might be needing some extra care makes me feel like we’re part of a true community. Those little interactions probably don't seem very significant in the moment, but together they create the kind of neighborhood where people know they're cared for.

And if you're reading this wishing your neighborhood felt a little more like that, maybe all it takes is being the first one to knock on a door, introduce yourself, or invite everyone over for dinner. Spend some time in your front yard instead of the backyard. Wave at people who walk by. Being the one to go first can be intimidating, but you might just change the atmosphere of your neighborhood by doing so!

Family Businesses

There is something special about knowing there are real people behind the things we bring into our homes. I think about this a lot because I grew up watching my dad build his photography business, and I was along for the ride from the very beginning.

Even as a toddler, I would tag along to photoshoots. My dad says that while he was setting up, he'd entertain me by sending me up and down the stairs to count how many there were. As I got older, I graduated from stair-counting to helping him plug in lights and flashes and taking test shots as his very official (and unpaid) model.

I hope family businesses always have room for that kind of overlap between work and family. Kids running around the shop while their parents finish a project. A husband building a stand for his wife's sourdough business and hauling a trailer to the farmers market. A toddler accidentally waking up at 3 a.m. because Mom is downstairs baking loaves for the next day's orders. The work matters, but so does the life happening around it.

I've seen that same thing play out in my own life working alongside a family business. At Flying Cow, there could be anywhere from three to seven kids running around the back of the store on a given day. Family has always been prioritized, even when it meant putting productivity on the back burner. We've given each other grace through hard seasons, celebrated exciting ones, laughed together, cried together, prayed together, and somehow become a little bit like family ourselves.

I hope we continue to cherish businesses like these - not just for what they make or sell, but for the people and stories woven into them. You can feel the kids underfoot, the spouses helping behind the scenes, the celebrations, the sacrifices, and all the ordinary moments that make up the story. It makes it a little easier to cheer for what they're building, because you know there are real people and real families behind it.

Libraries

There was something magical about walking into a library as a kid. The towering shelves that seemed to stretch forever. The quiet hum of people reading. The feeling that every aisle held a new story waiting to be discovered.

I still remember wandering through the shelves, running my fingers along the spines until something caught my attention. Or walking thru with my Summer Reading Program list, taking home as many as I could check out at once. Sometimes I would find a cozy corner and read for a while before ever taking a book home while my brother and mom looked for books as well. 

No algorithm was telling you what everyone else was reading. No reviews or trending lists were deciding what was worth your time. Just rows and rows of books - colorful children's stories, dusty classics, and forgotten favorites waiting for someone to pick them up. And occasionally a librarian “shushing” us to quiet down. 

I do have a Kindle that I read on all the time. But, even now, I still love the feeling of holding a real book in my hands. The weight of it. The texture of the pages. The smell of an old book that, if you know, you know. And checking out books with a deadline to return them forces you to slow down, and focus on one story at a time. It just doesn’t compare when you order on Amazon Prime! There is something special about a place filled with thousands of stories, where you can walk in looking for one thing and leave having discovered something completely unexpected. I hope libraries are appreciated and explored for generations to come. 

Photo Albums

We take more pictures than any generation before us, but I honestly wonder if we look at them less.

Thousands of photos live on our phones, backed up to the cloud and buried somewhere between screenshots, grocery lists, and pictures of our coffee from last Tuesday. They’re safe, but they’re rarely seen.

Growing up, my parents had dozens of photo albums documenting birthdays, holidays, vacations, and all the ordinary moments in between. I didn’t spend much time looking through them as a kid, but now, every time we visit family, I find myself pulling them off the shelf and flipping through the pages.

There is something special about hearing the plastic sleeves crinkle as you turn the pages. Checking the handwritten dates on the back of old prints. Finding a picture you forgot existed and reliving those moments again. I love when a single photo somehow becomes an entire story again. It sparks a distant memory or I hear my dad tell a story I’ve never heard before from my childhood. 

Maybe that’s why I still want to print our family photos instead of leaving them all on my phone. I want our daughter to know what it feels like to sit on the couch and hear, “Oh, I remember that day…” while turning another page, instead of just scrolling through an endless stream. 

Sundays

Somewhere along the way, Sundays changed. A day that was once reserved for rest, family, and a slower pace somehow became another day to catch up, accomplish, and prepare for the week ahead (cue “Mayberry” by Rascal Flatts).

And there’s nothing wrong with getting things done. Life requires it. Trust me, I’ve spent countless Sundays meal prepping, cleaning, doing laundry, making To-Do lists for the week - even sneaking an extra hour of work in. But I hope we remember to protect a little space to simply be.

Some of my favorite Sundays aren’t particularly memorable on paper. Lunch with friends after church. Watching football with my hubby on the couch. Reading on the porch while dinner cooks in the oven. A slow evening  walk through the neighborhood before another week begins.

Those afternoons may not look impressive from the outside, but maybe that’s exactly what makes them valuable. They remind us that our worth was never meant to come only from what we accomplish. I feel like we all need a Sunday afternoon with nowhere to be every once in a while.

Kids Playing Outside

I hope kids never stop coming home with dirty knees.

Some of my favorite childhood memories happened outside. Riding bikes or our electric scooters until the streetlights came on. Climbing rocks and trees. Building forts. Playing in our treehouse and pretending it was a castle. Digging holes for no particular reason other than wondering what we'd find.

There was such freedom in that kind of play. There were no batteries to charge, no notifications to answer, and no photo proof that it happened. Just imagination, fresh air, and the kind of adventures that somehow felt enormous even though they happened just up the street.

I think there was something valuable about being bored enough to create something. When there wasn’t always a toy ready to entertain us, we had to make our own fun. A stick became a sword. A cardboard box became a fort. An empty afternoon became an adventure.

Watching children discover the world with dirt under their fingernails and grass stains on their jeans still feels like one of life's simplest joys. I hope they always have room to explore, get messy, and come home tired from playing outside instead of scrolling inside.

Conclusion

Twenty years from now, my daughter might not remember every birthday gift she received or every trend that came and went.

But I hope she remembers the little things that made up the rhythm of our family: handwritten notes waiting in the mailbox, family dinners that lasted a little longer than expected, neighbors who knew her name, library books piled beside her bed, photo albums that came out every holiday, Sundays with nowhere to be, and summer evenings spent outside until it was time to come home.

Maybe she'll start traditions of her own someday without even realizing where they came from. Maybe she'll write thank-you notes because that's what she grew up seeing us do, pull an old photo album off a shelf when she's home visiting, or invite her own neighbors over for dinner because that's simply what community looked like to her growing up.

I think that's the beautiful thing about these ordinary traditions. We don't always know which ones will stay with us, or which small things our children will remember years from now. We just keep making room for them, and somewhere along the way, they become part of the story we're giving them.

And maybe that's enough.

Author: Gaby Wilson

Gaby has been part of the Flying Cow family for five years now! She has a Bachelor's degree in Communication with a minor in Business Management from Curry College (in a tiny town in Massachusetts). She moved to Texas from California in 2021, planning to stay for about 6 months, but the Lord had other plans...she met her now husband! They’ve been married for 3 years & have a sweet baby girl. Gaby is loving being a stay at home mama & juggling remote work for us from time to time!