The Tapestry of Memories
“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” — Dr. Seuss
Recently Evie and I have been taking a slow walk down memory lane. It all started when we began going through each of our offices in preparation for retirement from the University of Valley Forge. Some things were ours and we wanted to keep them. Other things were ours and it was time to discard them.
At home we have now been doing the same thing. Over the years I have had the tendency to keep things. I’m not sure if it is generational (I was born in 1945) or the way I grew up on the farm or just the way I have approached life and leadership. I guess my motto has always been, “I probably should keep this because I just never know when I might need it.”
As a result, I kept all of my college notes and papers, including the Greek and Hebrew vocabulary flash cards that helped me learn those languages. I kept notes from every sermon I listened to in countless chapel services. I kept all of the books I ever acquired. I kept every note and card that family and friends and students gave me. I kept files of articles I clipped, which Chrysta, my administrative assistant said, “That was your version of Google.” I even kept all of the earliest notes of Bible studies and sermons I had prepared.
Every time Evie and I traveled overseas or when we took a significant trip, I captured our experiences in journals and pictures. Those memories were enhanced by the mugs or wood carvings or other artifacts we gathered. Each one of them reminds us of the places where we purchased them and the people we were with.
Some of the most treasured keepsakes are letters from my mother. When she entered heaven in 1989 we found that she had kept all of my notes and post cards I had sent her. Years before I decided to send her a post card every Monday from wherever I was in the world. As I went through those post cards my only regret was that I had not written more.
We really only had two decisions to make: what do we keep and what do we throw away. Of course, some things have such deep meaning we had to keep them. Some day we will discard them, but not today. Other things, it was time to touch them one more time and then bid them adieu.
Since many of the things we were discarding were quite personal, we decided to burn in the old fire pit in our back yard. Evie and I had a great time over several different days roasting marshmallows and hot dogs over the flames from those memories of long ago.
In one bag I placed some of my early sermon notes. They really were the evidence of a young pastor just starting out in ministry. I did notice, however, that the pages were stacked rather tightly together on top of the fire and took quite long to start burning. I posted on social media a picture I took of them and commented that even after all of these years, I still could hardly get any fire out of those sermons.
As I went through boxes and boxes and files and files, a million memories cascaded across my heart and soul. How grateful I am for friends and mentors who profoundly impacted my life. How grateful I am for the educational and vocational opportunities I have been privileged to have. How grateful I am for my precious family, and especially for Evie, who has been by my side for over 49 years and in my heart for a few years more.
Someone said, “Life brings tears, smiles and memories. The tears dry; the smiles fade; but the memories last forever.” I agree.
Think about it.
Recently Evie and I have been taking a slow walk down memory lane. It all started when we began going through each of our offices in preparation for retirement from the University of Valley Forge.