Earlier this week, a friend emailed me to say that my “lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer” blog about my mother made him think about his mother and grandmother. The thoughts filled him with good feelings. I can’t think of a higher compliment. I occasionally get that kind of affirmation from others. My stories remind them of their stories.
At some level, there is something refreshing about going back in the resources of memory to momentarily reflect on how others who share or have shared our pilgrimage enriched our life. My stories are simple. My life is simple. I am more at home in my “right brain” than my “left brain”, so this isn’t rocket science. It is simply “Life 101”. It may be simple, but that doesn’t mean it has to be boring or uneventful. No doubt, the same could be true with you. Perhaps the connections we share and the memories we hold contribute a universal sense that life has purpose and meaning.
Today at work I came to the realization (I almost wrote, “sad realization”) that I’m the oldest employee in our family of ministries. Could that possibly be true? There may be an exception, but no one surfaces on the radar screen of my memory. Then again, that, too, could be a sign of aging. I’m not sure why I find that troublesome, but it leaves me a little uncomfortable. I guess at some level, when you reach the top tier in the age bracket, you eventually disappear from the scene. Did I mention that I am not yet ready to be gone? As an agency we are postured to have better tools for working with children and families from hard places than we’ve ever had before. This is the year we are fully embracing trauma informed care. I anticipate the outcomes will be worthy of record. I simply want to be around to cheer and celebrate the progress.
Earlier today, I looked at one of my early efforts to capture a memory by writing my thoughts down. I didn’t date the document, but it sounds like something I could have written yesterday. In all likelihood, it was written in 2004. I don’t remember particularly what all was going on in my head, but I recorded enough of the details to recognize that I have been this way before.
I wrote: “For those of you who know me well, you’ll have no difficulty believing that I don’t often that have sermon notes in place twenty-four hours before delivery. Interestingly, I anticipated that yesterday would be a full day. Consequently, yesterday morning while Treva was wasting precious time sleeping late, I pulled together my thoughts and notes concerning the morning message.
Consequently when the alarm went off at 5:00 this morning, my first thought was to ignore the alarm and go back to sleep. Instead, I reluctantly showered, got dressed and subsequently found myself at the computer attempting to collect my thoughts and head a different direction for the morning meditation.
About the break of dawn, with my notes far from complete, I went outside to gather my thoughts. As I stood on the back porch, it was an interesting view. There was a heavy layer of fog in the distance or a low-lying mist. The air smelled fresh. The sound of the waterfall at the pond was music to my ears. In addition, the water was clear; the fish were easy to see. There was no evidence of algae (perhaps I had finally won the fight), but I made a mental note that I needed to clean the filter.
I then noticed a humming bird busily hovering over a flowering plant. The setting was serene. I wished momentarily that I had the camera, and then I remembered that I don’t know how to operate it.
As I absorbed the sights, sounds, smell and overall impression of the backyard, I was grateful for the sanctuary it provided. It was great spot to reflect on the morning message. All was momentarily well in my world.
I forgot that Treva and I exchanged a few cross words yesterday morning when she suggested I vacuum the rugs while she vacuumed the floors. After all, what are we doing with two vacuum cleaners? I had other things I needed to do. (Actually, I’m not sure we exchanged the words, I may only have thought them, but I did vacuum.)
I forgot that I went to bed extremely anxious on Friday night and then even more anxious last night because Craig hasn’t telephoned to report he is safely out of Iraq and is in Kuwait.
Barn swallows brought me back to reality. I was convinced that if our home was ever featured on “Designed to Sell” on HGTV, a real estate expert viewing our home would suggest that we needed to get rid of the barn swallows. They have the unique ability to transform a serene setting into something closely akin to a birdcage kind of existence. It is not a pretty sight”.
I wish I had written more. The details are sketchy, but I can imagine the real life adventure as it unfolded a decade ago. If you’re not writing down your stories, I recommend you begin. It really does capture a memory.
All My Best!
Don