We Don't Remember Days...

Today is Sheri's birthday.

I gave the crew the day off because it was raining and because I wanted to spend the day with Sheri anyway. She has been wanting to paint the downstairs bedroom so we got some stuff to do that, and we went to a steakhouse and had a very enjoyable and relaxing lunch. Our waiter was a guy named Allen and he took very good care of us. He even offered us dessert! What a guy, huh?

We went into Springfield to get a few things for her and also to pick up some materials for the remodel job that's rapidly and finally coming to an end. As Sheri was trying on some articles of clothing (I couldn't help with this one), I was wandering around the store and while I was looking in the menswear department, I made the decision that all of the neckties that I purchase from now on will contain the color purple. I then found myself in the home decor section where I saw something that made me pause and think about the day.

It was neutral in color and simple in design and would fit very nicely in any home. It was a wall plaque with a little nugget of thought provoking (at least in my case) wisdom. We have several of those in our home already... there's one that says "Pray Always" that Sheri made in Relief Society, and one that hangs above the big picture window in our living room that states "Love is Spoken Here." Rebecca made that one at girl’s camp a few years ago. There's one that reads "Everything for a Reason" that Sheri received for her birthday last year from our good friend Melinda, and there's one that Rebecca made for a family home evening that she conducted that advises us all to "Choose your friends wisely, for you will tend to be like them."

The one that I saw today made me think about different moments in my life. I remember the day that Sheri and I got married, because we celebrate that day every year as our anniversary. I remember lots of dates like that, birthdays and anniversaries and holidays and so on. Other important or memorable events occurred on dates not remembered by me.

In August of 1977, I was vacationing with a friend and his family and we had just finished a tour of the Alamo in San Antonio when we heard that Elvis had passed away. I don't remember the date, but I remember the moment. Many of my parent’s generation remember where they were when they heard about the assassination of President Kennedy, or Martin Luther King Jr., or that of JFK's brother Bobby.

I recall how I felt when I realized that I was in love with Sheri, but I have no idea when exactly that was. I remember the same with my first wife Kelley, but also have no clue as to when it was. You just don't forget those kinds of things, but some of the unimportant details have a way of fading, probably to make room for more of the really meaningful things.

We all have those monumental moments that we keep within our memory banks... which brings me back to that plaque I saw this morning. It said simply, "We Don't Remember Days, We Remember Moments."

I hadn't really thought about it before, but man, how true is that?

I don't know when Sheri and I made the decision to move to Missouri, but I sure do recall the thought process that went into our decision, and then the decision itself. I cannot recollect the day I asked her to marry me, but I sure do recall asking her. That was a special moment, and the day it occurred just isn't as important as the event.

Does the day really matter anyway? I don't think it does. In the big picture, it's the moments in which we feel the most emotion that really shape our lives and form who we become. If you read a good book that moves you, you'll remember that and it will cause a change in some part of your behavior or habits.

The same goes for people you meet. Some of the people I've had the privilege to know have had a profound impact upon me. It's not the time we spent together, but the moments we shared. I don't know off the top of my head the date that Jaya was born, but I remember her mom planting a light kiss on my cheek and thanking me for caring so much. Until then I never really knew if she realized how much I cared for the whole family, but in that seemingly ordinary moment, I discovered that I was doing it right, and that made a difference to me.

Meeting people for the first time is often forgettable. That's not always so, as in the case of love at first sight. I remember the first time I laid my eyes upon Sheri. She was waiting for me in the airport and was wearing a very pink dress and standing near a wall to my left. Those kinds of meetings are engrained into our minds, but most first meetings aren't.

I can't remember the first time I met many of the people I knew from church back in Richmond, but it's easy to recall the last time I saw them, especially those who moved away when we were still there. The effects of a hurting heart have a way of lingering for a while, and we remember those last times because there's more emotion invested in the moment... especially when there's a "goodbye" to go along with it.

A little more than a decade ago, my family enjoyed a little piece of land in Texas that my father had purchased. He dubbed the 26 acres "Seven Oaks" and we spent many happy days there as a family. The things that I really loved about the place though, were the moments that were available to us while we were there. We didn't have a telephone in the house, and we didn't allow a television to be taken there. That wasn't the purpose of our visits to this special place.

Seven Oaks was an opportunity to create moments sitting around the fire and telling stories that we had already heard countless times before. It was a place where the little kids would eat their lunches in an old chicken coop (or maybe it was a rabbit hutch, I'm not really sure) up in a tree that Sam and I had cleaned out for them. Our little escape from the rest of the world was a place to fix up and enjoy for what it was... a retreat.

We cooked everything outside, mostly because there was no stove or oven in the house, but also because everything just tastes so darned better cooked that way. I remember cooking breakfast on a cast iron griddle over coals dug out of the fire pit from last night's fire. You've never had a breakfast so fulfilling.

The best moment was an Easter Sunday when we held our own church meeting. We sang hymns, a couple of kids gave short talks, and Gordon (Sam's dad) gave a really special talk about the important meaning of the day. Even more than the day itself, that was a moment worth remembering.

I can only hope that the kids who got to enjoy the place have some of those kinds of moments to carry with them throughout their lives. They were kind of young back then, but they do remember the name "Seven Oaks" and how much fun it was to be there.

I certainly can't tell anyone what their special moments in life are, or should be. Everyone has their own. I have mine and you have yours. So as I was standing there in front of that plaque today, I thought briefly about what it was saying to me.

We don't remember days, we remember moments.

What is it that makes a special moment so much more than just a memory? I think it's emotions, as I eluded to before. The moments in our lives that really make a difference are driven by emotion. And the range of emotions that are involved is vast and wide indeed. What are some of these feelings that make the moments in our lives? That depends.

For me, the equal but opposite feelings of pleasure and pain are the two that make such moments. Who can forget the first time they looked into the eyes of their child, or the time they had to watch as that same child was suffering? Who can't recall the feeling of falling in love for the first time, or the feeling of your first broken heart? Who has difficulty remembering coming to the realization that you have a really special friend, and when you had to say goodbye to that friend.

These are the kinds of moments that matter... at least to me. And it's those moments that carry the true wealth, not where I was, not what day it was, and not who witnessed it. The true meaning is deep within the emotions felt at the time. Pleasure... pain... fear... peace... love... hatred... joy... anger... all of the experiences we have that cause these (and other) strong emotional feelings are what we remember.

We also have the unique ability to create moments, sometimes by design and sometimes by accident. I don't know why I remember sitting my dad's car at a drive-in movie and watching "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" while I was assembling some leather moccasins I had received for Christmas earlier in the day. My dad doesn't remember that night... a moment created by accident.

I also remember creating a meal for Sheri and I in Richmond that we enjoyed at a table set up under the big oak tree in the back yard as the sun was going down. That was one that worked out as planned so I'm going to take a moment here and pat myself on the back and take credit for creating a special moment. To reiterate the essence of this post, I have no clue as to what day of the week my special dinner happened, or anything else about that day.

We don't remember days, we remember moments.

Christmas is another example. Christmas was always special when I was a kid. I don't always remember which Christmas something special happened, but I do remember the moments. When my cousin Kevin and I played with his tabletop hockey game for hours on end, or when we tried to knock each other's block off with the Rock 'em sock 'em robots, or even when he and my sister Linda turned my brand new tent into their own vertical trampoline of sorts. All of those moments are indelibly etched into my brain, even though I have no recollection of anything else that happened on those days.

So even though I don't remember when I first met many of my friends, I do remember special moments I had with them. I can't recall all the times Rebecca and I spent together, but I do have some very special memories of some of our meaningful conversations together. And while I can't remember anything else that happened on the day when I first heard Jessica laugh out loud, I do remember exactly where we were and what I did that made her giggle for a few brief seconds.

I don't know what we will or won't remember on the other side of the veil, but I am very thankful that at least in this life we have our moments to remember, even if we don't remember the day or anything else that happened on that day.

I also believe that we will have more of those moments if we keep our eyes tuned into our daily lives in such a way that we will recognize them as they are happening. I think that we get so caught up in just surviving that we don't notice the special events until they are over and we can only relive them in memory. Focus your attention on not only what is happening at any given moment in time, but also on the meanings of such moments, and I think that you will find that those special moments not only happen more frequently, but become even more special as they are happening.

Some years from now, I hope I will remember the day that Sheri and I spent together today, and when I saw that plaque, and my decision about purple in my neckties... the special, and sometimes goofy moments that made today memorable. And even though I probably won't remember exactly which one of Sheri's birthdays these things happened, I can live with that.

We don't remember days, we remember moments.

Until next time...