Fond Memories

As I get older, I discover that I remember specific incidents less and less. I'm not totally sure why that is. I wonder if our brain's "memory hard drive" gets too full and gets selective about what it remembers. It would be nice if we got a "memory almost full" message so we could purge memories that were not as significant as others. Some memories are so special that we remember them over and over, and tell the stories to the same people more than once.

For instance, my dad has some wonderful stories of growing up in Colorado. He lived there at a time when there was abundant game and fish every time he and his adult relatives went into the woods. I have heard some of his fishing stories more than once, and I have enjoyed them every time. I suspect that it doesn't occur to him that he has told the stories before because they are still so vivid in his mind. Each time he tells the story, it's as if the memory has just come to him. I find that there are memories that I recall just like that. Memories that are so vivid that I can recall almost even the most insignificant detail. Then Kathy will ask me, "do you remember...", and I have no clue what she is talking about. Don't tell her, but sometimes when I'm nodding yes and smiling as she talks, I have no memory whatsoever of the event she is recalling in "vivid color."

One of those memories for me is a vacation we took to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina in the mid 80s. We were both working on the staff of The PTL Television Network and I was on the ministerial staff of Heritage Village Church. Jason, Aimee, Josh and I were fishing on the pier at Myrtle Beach and having a great time. Josh was 3 or 4 and more interested in what was on the pier than in fishing. We had bought him a little Snoopy pole and I had baited it and propped it up on the pier railing so I could see it if a fish started biting. Well, a fish did bite, in fact, it bit so hard it pulled the pole right off the pier into the ocean. "Splash", "what was that", "oh no, Josh's pole is in the water". And that was that. Once we got Josh calmed down with promises of buying another pole, we went back to fishing with the poles we had left. About a half hour later, I got a pretty good bite on my pole, set the hook and started bringing in the fish. As the line started to come in I couldn't believe what I was seeing come out of the water. My hook had hooked Josh's Snoopy pole. I carefully pulled it in, and then let Josh reel in the fish that his pole had hooked and was still securely there. We kept that pole for a long time, well after the time Josh graduated to a larger fishing pole. Finally, in one of our moves, the Snoopy pole didn't make it. That's okay, the memory is firmly embedded in my memory. I suppose I have told the story to someone more than once. But that's okay, older guys can get away with that.

If you know me very well, you know I love Christmas stories. I collect them, tell them and live them. I love story tellers and try my best to be a good one. Stories relate life, and love, and the good things about us. Relish your memories and tell the stories, even if you tell them more than once to the same person.