It’s All About the Memories

Five things I would regretfully not save from my burning house:

The Love Pants

I was browsing in the Love Shack on Mackinac Island when I discovered The Love Pants.  They were groovy.  My friend dared me to try them on in all their spandexed glory.  “Only if you buy them for me,” I teased.  I tried them on but he didn’t buy.  So all weekend I was obnoxious, “Buy me the loooooove pants!”  We had ridden our bikes from Charlevoix to the Mackinac Island ferry and then another two miles, once we got off the ferry, to our destination.  Well over 80 miles in one day – up steep hills once we were north of Harbor Springs.

I had earned the right to wear the pants.

But alas, I left the island pantsless.

A few months later my sisters threw me a fortieth birthday party.  The gift that one guest came bearing was, yep, The Love Pants!

I put them on immediately and wore them for the rest of the day.  I looked darn good in them, too. If it weren’t for anonymity, I’d post the photo to prove it.  I’ve not worn them since, but I did loan them to a friend who rocked them on her fortieth, which was fun.

I would really miss those pants and the memories that sit on the top shelf of my closet.

The Love Pants, dusted off for a quick photo

The Love Pants, dusted off for a quick photo

Bike Trip Photos

I would miss the many photos of my bike trips through Vermont and through the Canadian Rockies.  Good, healthy, glorious times.

Cold Hard Cash

I have a stash of cold hard cash.  Whenever I receive an honorarium for speaking I stick it in an envelope.  On the nights I don’t feel like cooking I use some of it to take my family out to dinner.  I also use it for our annual mother/daughter road trip.  I’d definitely regret not grabbing that.

All the stuff from my daughter’s childhood.

The box of baby stuff, the folder of school pictures, the reports cards, awards and art projects, all the precious gifts made from her sweet little hands and the boxes and boxes of photos documenting all the precious events in her life.

The stack of cards in my nightstand drawer.

All the valentines, birthday and anniversary cards from my hubster, my really-good-at-it, best-card-giving hub.

And all the loving mother’s day and birthday cards from my daughter.  Whenever I need a little pick-me-up I read through some of those cards.  Yeah, I would definitely miss those.

Looking up at my list I realize that it is all about the memories, the few minutes I take here and there to revisit the best of times and some cash to make a few new ones.

© 2015, The Reluctant Baptist


3 thoughts on “It’s All About the Memories

  1. How I wish I have baby photos, or graduation pictures or any pictures from the distant past that will serve as memories. Sadly we could not afford a photographer that time and whatever images we managed to accumulate had been all carried away by floods or typhoons.


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