Being the Memory Maker

Photo taken at Heartwood Resort. 

I don't get out much. I like being at home. But, when I leave home, I like to go somewhere with a view.

I've been called "culturally illiterate", and it's probably true. I don't read the paper or watch the news or spend time keeping up with the latest entertainers. I don't know what movie stars are having babies or who their baby daddy is and I didn't watch last nights game. I don't keep up and I generally just don't care that much.

I often feel like Temperance Brennan on Bones when someone makes a cultural reference and she replies with a matter of fact

"I don't know what that means."

But, I'm just busy caring about and thinking about other things, and time feels short. Maybe it's because I'm getting older...
A young mom asked me the other day, "How do you know all these stories?"
I laughed, but after thinking it over, I realized that I have just lived. I listen to people talk, I watch their lives go by and I remember. I've had a lot of experiences, so I have a lot of stories to tell.

I have memories.

Not all of my memories are good. Some are horrible, and tragic. Some bring me to tears. Some memories send me to my room to hide under a blanket and wish I never had to come out. Some of them are just that bad.

But, I am made up of memories. My fears and joys, my hopes and dreams are often built upon these memories.

I know that my kids will have a lifetime of them, how ever long that life will be. So, today, instead of keeping up with the Who-nots in Hollywood or watching the ball players in the stadium, I am going to be a memory maker. I'm going to do my best to sprinkle in some really good ones, the kind that make you smile, and even cry tears of joy just to think of them.