Memories
I sat in my family room preparing to watch a good Netflix movie with my hubby. It was a lovely Saturday afternoon, and we had just arrived home from a special service meeting. The phone rang, and it was my youngest son, Aaron, calling to tell me that he and Hayley, his wife, were still stuck in Florida and hadn’t made it back to New York yet.
You can’t imagine how loud I began screaming when the next thing I see is he and Hayley walking from my foyer into the family room! I was so surprised and so thrilled at once! He had come home to take me to see The Devil Wears Prada 2! It was special, and my heart warmed that my son could appreciate my love of fashion and wanted to celebrate it with me in this way!
That night the 4 of us went to Lenox Square Mall, rolled our seats back, enjoyed the movie together, and if that wasn’t enough, the kids took us to a wonderful French restaurant for dinner thereafter. It’s a memory I won’t forget and sometimes, when I’m missing my kids it pops up to remind me that they must miss my hubby and me too.
As a mother of 2 sons, I have felt vulnerable about that in the past. I’ve learned that boys/men are different. They may not always tell you they’re thinking of you – but they just may be. My oldest son, Stephen, has a friend who traveled with him to Kenya when he was younger. Recently, his friend Paul told me stories about how Stephen used to share with him my love of poetry. He vividly remembered me quoting Maya Angelou from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, the Buckshot LeFonque track featuring her spoken words. He said that Stephen always spoke of me fondly, even cracking jokes about my antics and methods of child-rearing.
Memories can be intense and extreme – filling our hearts with joy and exhilaration or with sadness and utter debilitation. I try hard to dismiss the pain of sad memories and intoxicate my mind with memories that make my soul rejoice. I encourage you to do the same. And as you do, continue creating memories in the present. Each day focus on the gifts you take for granted, including your ability to see the world around you, smell its fragrance, taste its goodness and hear its rhythm. Please, PLEASE, PLEASE keep a journal. The memories you record may prove to be immortal in a world where everything is currently so finite.
I rarely, and I mean rarely take baths. I’m a shower girl for sure. Plus, I can’t take a bath unless I shower first because the thought of floating bath germs grosses me out. But I digress. Tonight, after I shower, I’m hitting the tub for a candlelight bubble bath. The goal is to focus on memories…misty water-colored memories as Barbra Streisand sang, of the way we were, and the memories I will create with hubby of the way we are and the way I want us to be in the future.
My anniversary is next month…let the planning for good future memories begin! After all, memories aren’t just something we inherit from the past. We are creating tomorrow’s memories today.
MARIO'S MESSAGE
