I was on the road recently when a song that I had not heard before came on the radio. It wasn’t one of Trace Adkin’s best, I didn’t think, but the subject matter hit home with me. I suppose it’s because the oldest of our grandchildren will be graduating soon that I’m finding myself wondering about all the things “I meant to do,” all the time “I thought we had.”
The song was called She Thinks We’re Fishing, and it reminded me of all the times I’ve told myself that something was worthwhile because we were “making memories.”
You know how it goes; we eat a picnic on the ground, sharing it with the ants because we are making memories.
We build tents all over the living room with our best quilts because we are making memories.
We bake cookies when we’re tired; we stay up all night making sure that Santa’s gifts are displayed just right, and we host slumber parties for giggling little girls and play ball with smelly little boys…all because we want to make memories.
And then before we even realize that it could be possible, time passes and our chances to make those memories grow fewer and fewer, and we’re left hoping that we did it right, that we built the right kind of memories, the kind that last, the kind that will carry them through when life is hard and the days feel dark.
Don’t get me wrong. Kids have to learn to work; they have to learn responsibility; they have to learn that God is the ultimate authority and guide; they have to learn respect for their fellow man and that their country ultimately is in their hands. They have to learn to be good husbands, wives, and parents, and they have to learn….well, you know.
And yet, in the middle of all of that, I still wonder…did we give them the memories that they can pull out and hold, remember, and cherish long after we are gone?
I hope so.