Moments that make up memories.
I realized yesterday that I use that phrase quite often when I write. The importance of those words is very weighty to me.
There is nothing in this world that can take away, erase or change your memories. They are with you for the rest of your life. Like a feature film only you can see and play, as often as you would like. Most of the time we don’t get to choose the scenarios, they come upon us unawares as our days progress into each other. Day by day, moment by moment we live our lives, all the while turning those moments into memories.
When my dad was still alive, memories of my childhood were precious, but I never fully understood their importance. Maybe because he was still with me and so, a part of me still felt like a child. I had him, I had my memories and I had pieces of my childhood all around me whenever I sat and visited with him.
(which was almost a daily occurrence).
It felt safe. It felt like home.
And then~just like that, all of it was gone and I felt utterly abandoned and alone. I felt as if those memories were a life line I was grasping at and trying to hold on to~
because I no longer had them in the physical things I could see and touch.
Dishes and utensils, pots and pans, china and silver~all the things I remember my mom using in my childhood were all priced, packed and put aside to sell. Furniture that I had dusted week after week from the time I started grade school was sold. Pictures were put in boxes and a home filled with my childhood seemed to be erased.
I realize that this is something every one of us must face at some point in our lives. I will admit, I’m overly sentimental and probably wear my heart on my sleeve way too often. I almost couldn’t bare to do it. I almost couldn’t bare to part with one thing that my parents had cherished because every single thing, right down to the forks and spoons were part of a childhood that meant the world to me. I am so sentimental that I took pictures of every thing before packing it all up, every drawer and cupboard, every display on every shelf of every room. I even took pictures of my dad’s junk drawer. He was so organized and had everything so neat and tidy and it tickled my heart to see it.
I didn’t care if I looked foolish for taking pictures of it all and I didn’t care if the tears fell.
And they fell and they fell.
And then it was all over and gone and all I had left was the memory of it all. I realized that I was the only one that possessed my unique and exact memories with my parents~
because they were both gone now too.
And that’s when the importance of moments and memories hit me.
But~ I realized in that moment that I was still making memories.
My memories did not end with my parents. They will continue as long as I am alive. I can be a part of the memories in the hearts of my own children. Memories in the hearts of my grandchildren, memories in the heart of my husband, memories in the hearts of my family and my church family~
and my own heart felt such a stirring to remind you all of how important the memories we create from the moments we share are. Because memories are something that will always, always live on in our hearts until the day we die.
We might move from house to house. Through the years we most likely will change our decor or our vehicle or our appliances, we might make new friends as the years pass, we might watch our children and grandchildren as they grow and move away and begin lives of their own, we may look lovingly at our spouse and their now wrinkled smile and gray hair,
and we might even lose those we love dearly~
but we will never, ever lose our memories.
The key to the beauty of it all is in the moments that make up those memories.
We put so much importance on the things we can see and touch and possess. Things we think we can’t live without. Projects that have to be finished, jobs that must be done. Houses and cars and furniture and clothes and things we think will make us, or even our children happy. Things we think we are supposed to have.
The American dream.
But all the while we somehow forget that we can’t take any of it with us when we die. It will all be left behind for someone to sort through, to cry over and to make the hard decisions to sell.
And then all that is left behind are the memories we have made in the moments we lived.
Yes, I was sad to see my parent’s “things” go, but not because of the monetary value they held. I was sad because of the precious memories that made them so valuable.
There is nothing wrong with making a wonderful life and home for yourself and your children. That’s exactly what my parents did for me, but don’t ever allow the making of that life to overshadow the moments with your children that create memories they will always cherish.
What are you making of your moments? Every single second you live is a moment and a memory in the making. The words you say to those you love. The hugs and the kisses and the laughter and the magic. The snuggles and the reminiscing and the tenderness. The togetherness. That is what make up the moments that create beautiful memories.
One day your child will no longer have you. They most likely will not have their childhood home or any of the things that fill that home. Things you think are so important.
But they will always have their memories. Unique only to them.
A precious gift that only you can give them by choosing today to make every moment count. To make every moment meaningful. To make a lifetime of every day normalcy into a fairytale of beautiful memories. I am a grandma, and yet I can remember my childhood like it was yesterday. Your children will too.
Give those you love that beauty to remember. I will always cherish mine because it’s in that beauty of those memories that our loved ones live on forever.