If you could go on a vacation to the destination of your choice and have the time of your life there, would you go? What if you knew that afterward you would remember nothing about it, would you still go? I answered “sure” to the first question but a quick, definite “not-a-chance” to the second. Why would you take a vacation if you’d have no memory of it? Isn’t life about the memories? Already I find myself talking about things that happened when the kids were little, when Mike and I were first married, when I was in college…etc. When I get together with extended family, we talk about the year it snowed 12 inches or the time the turkey burned. If there were no memories, what would matter?
Do you ever think about your legacy? What will people remember about you when you’re gone? What moments will come to mind, and what will be remembered about those moments? It really doesn’t matter what we do, it’s the memory of what we do that matters. What we think we offer the world is not necessarily what the world will remember about us. I know this because I did an experiment with my children. I asked them what they will remember about their dad when he happens to die (I know…a bit gruesome, but worthwhile) and they spewed out a whole bunch of great memories; some I’d even forgotten until they started talking. He always honked the horn when the kids walked in front of the car; he would start singing a song, expecting the kids to join in…etc. We laughed and interrupted each other and talked and were goofy for a long time. All the memories were good ones and there were plenty of them.
Then I asked what they would remember about me. That was a tougher question. There were some funny, happy memories that quickly surfaced, but it was a more quiet exchange… It seems that their dad is the “fun” one, the “silly” one and I am the “clean” one, the “can I go?” one. I’m the parent who makes and enforces the rules. At first I was kind of hurt that they didn’t remember all the things I remembered, but after some dwelling, I realize that parents have to balance each other, and that my role is a good one. My kids come to me with their homework, they tell me about their friends, their relationships, their lives. We discuss saving money, being honest, working hard, making good choices, making tough choices…it isn’t all fun, but we connect on a deep, genuine level. It’s not what I would think my kids would remember about me, but I’m completely OK with it, even proud of it. Some parent’s don’t have the trust and faith of their children, and I do. And, I’m happy I know what they think, so I can throw some “crazy” in the mix.
Today you’re living your memories…make sure they’re good ones!
Margaret
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And never forget Margie, that their memories will also have the tangible form of your writing. You have put down some very heartfelt ideas and thoughts that show your compassion for the world, and your deep love for your children. When they're older, when the memories threaten to be more about the rule enforcing, your writings will help show those memories in a new light--especially when they have children of their own.
ReplyDeleteThank you Erin. I love that my writing will be part of my legacy. Thanks for reading and thanks for the nice comments, I love comments!
ReplyDeleteI am sure your kids will thank you for all you have done for them. There were a lot of things I did not like about my parents/mom when I was growing up. But as I got older, I realized how well they/she had prepared me for the real world. I love them/her for that.
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