Make a Memory is a movement, a challenge to turn
I wish I had into I’m glad I did in 2015.
Reach out and claim an adventure this year. Make a Memory before it’s too late.
I met reader Karen Snyder when I was thirty-two. She and I worked at the same law firm: she as paralegal; I as administrator. Managing lawyers is like herding cats….no cliche there. I boiled my days in pots of stress, and I was seldom happy.
Karen was always a happy face. It lit up my office (well really, it was a closet). Every time she poked her head around the doorframe or sat across from my desk, my day improved. She doesn’t know how much she helped me endure those ten long months. I’ll always be grateful for her.
Please enjoy Karen’s
Make a Memory submission.
If anyone underscores
the importance of
Making a Memory, she does.
Recently my friend, author Andra Watkins, posed a question to those of us who follow her blog, asking us:
What would you do to make a memory?
I wanted to respond, but struggled. I’m a matter of fact person not given to flights of fancy or whimsical actions, and I couldn’t wrap my head around the concept of setting out specifically “to make a memory.” Then, one of her regular readers and fellow author, John Howell, voiced the question as a directive:
Tell me about the time you
made a memory
with someone else.
Immediately, we were no longer speaking of a hypothetical, future memory, and that opened a floodgate. Now, I’m trying to sort through a lifetime of memories; events that, at the time, did not happen for the specific purpose of making a memory, but that have been intricately woven into a kaleidoscope of memories; memories that may be prompted by a photo, by a smell, by someone else’s memory or, because of someone’s question.
Currently, Andra’s memories of her Dad and time spent with him, have caused me to reflect on memories of my own Dad; someone I would describe today as a private person (he spoke little of his childhood, less about his military service), quietly embarrassed that he never finished high school, he was determined that his children would get an education, ornery as dirt, loved a good joke, somewhat superstitious, and someone who avoided unpleasantries if at all possible – hence, with rare exceptions, disciplinary matters were relegated to Mom, because he feared his kids wouldn’t “like” him. He did, however, generally back up any decisions she made and directives she handed down;
“listen to your mother.”
Many of my more readily recalled memories of him were made in the 15 months that followed the diagnosis of the brain tumor that ultimately took him from us when he was younger than I am today. At a point in time when he had already undergone some hospitalizations and treatments meant to eliminate the tumor (they did), but were not guaranteed to keep the tumor from recurring (they did not) he was able to be at home. During that brief time he and Mom stayed with my husband and me because our home was much nearer his doctors. Those days were a mix of good and bad, tears and belly laughs, very difficult at the time, but all sweet memories today.
Twenty-six years later, I still miss him.
***Karen’s photo from her Facebook profile.
Read Not Without My Father. Grab a loved one. Make a Memory that will live forever. The Huffington Post calls Not Without My Father “one literary ride you don’t want to miss!”
Click to read a sample of Not Without My Father
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14 Comments
I enjoyed reading this memory of your dad Karen. It was very touching. Also, I was surprised my words back to Andra a while ago allowed you to tell this wonderful story. You made me feel very useful today. Thank you.
Thanks, John. And, yes, that comment of yours truly lit the way; happy to oblige. 🙂
One of the things I’ve always loved about this community is how people here connect with one another elsewhere. It makes me so happy to see people here become Facebook friends and whatnot. I’ve always, always wanted my friends to be friends.
Andra, I happened to be sitting at the computer when the notice of your new posting hit my email inbox. You have totally undone me with your lovely introduction, although in all honesty, I’m not sure who was the most help to whom in those early days at the firm. Whether you knew it at the time or not, your smiles and understanding were of immense support to me. Over time, however, I grew to love the place (for the most part), and I truly miss the entire, unruly lot of them! 🙂
Thanks for sharing my memory.
I don’t remember smiling much when I was there, Karen, but I probably did in public. I always viewed that position as one of leadership, though most attorneys never saw it that way at either firm I managed.
I’m very grateful for the people I met during that period, though. I still keep in touch with several.
Okay Andra….I believe I’m always making memories, however, this time I’m Making A Memory with my YOUNG 5:00 a.m. Crossfit buddies…we all entered the Crossfit Open. You may think that this is not scary for me, I hate competition – hate it. Ugh. Anyway, we’ll see how this pans out. I’m not competing against these young kids though, I’ll be competing against people my own ages – which is absolutely more pressure if you ask me. I mean there’s no way I can keep up with a 20 year old…but….someone my own age? Ha.
I saw that announcement on Facebook. I hope you’ll send a full report, because I’d love to feature it. However it turns out, you’re going to have an incredible adventure with this contest, Lori. 🙂
Test test test.
I miss my father every day as well. Beautifully written. Thank you for sharing your memory. 🙂
Karen’s story is very moving. I’m grateful she shared.
What a beautiful story, Karen.
I agree, Linda.
Karen, yours is a beautiful reminder that there are memories made in the face of the most fearful moments, and what a blessing it is to have them to draw upon years later. Thank you!
What I love most about these submissions is their variety. Big adventures can be great memories, but so can any connection, moment, or investment done with a presence.
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