I believe in making memories. Because I was a son of a mother whose parents were alcoholics, I have many unhappy memories, I quickly learned that ANY moment can be made into a memory and that EVERY moment can become a Kodak moment. I believe in memories because my mother had so few.
In my younger years I hated every bit of these so called memory making moments. But as I approach my high school graduation and look at the multitude of photographs, cards, newspaper articles, art projects, homemade gifts, etc., that my mom so lovingly saved and preserved, I now realize that my life has been well documented. I have no doubt that the stories I have through out my life will be easy to share with my children and will be irreplaceable to me. There is hardly a chance I will forget an eventful or even an ordinary moment in my life.
I only have to look at the boxes of memories I have from birth through my high school years, to know. It is a painstaking, time consuming job, but knowing they are there is comforting to me. It is hard to imagine how empty my mom must have felt with so few tangible memories around her. I asked her about this and she smiled the way only moms can smile right before they give you a “life lesson” and told me: “Memories don’t always have to be something you see or touch, Tim.” So we started down a memory lane I couldn’t see or touch. There were no pictures of these, no home videos, no crayon drawings, just memories.
We talked about the time my mom was cutting grass and I was playing in the backyard, next to the creek. I thought I found a big black rubber hose and was swinging it around and around my head – like a lasso. My mom came to check on me and noticed the rubber hose was indeed a very large black snake. We talked about the time my brother got a guinea pig, his first pet and while that wasn’t so memorable, the time my mom caught me putting the guinea pig in my remote control car and driving it around house was. Or the time my family was playing ball in the backyard and I smoked a ball, it was truly a homerun and my mom ran back and she caught it! Within a few short minutes I had added one more memory to my collection. Memories, tangible or otherwise can last a life time. Memories are meant to share and more importantly memories are meant to last for a life time.