The Memory Book

My Youngest & I have turned a job into a rather enjoyable experience.

We have cleared out the top shelf of his closet, some of the clutter in his room and a file of miscellaneous paperwork and turned all of it into a Memory Book of his elementary school years.

I included him in the project right from the onset, as I asked him go through class pictures and write down the names of his classmates for future reference. This is something that we should have done the day that he brought them home from school because I see that I am not the only one who cannot retain long term memories.

As he took on the task of labelling school photos, I started collecting his journals from over the years. Soon he was leafing through the journals as they provided several clues for his memory lapses.

Rummaging through the clutter of the past can be fun. It provides a person with a road map down memory lane. One memory leads to another. The next thing we knew, we were going through photo albums to connect the dots of the past and create a more vivid picture.

Then we remembered the various letters, notes, journals and other memorabilia that we have scattered about the house. As we collected and reread those it spurred on a whole new conversation.

We talked, we laughed and we reminisced. We bantered back and forth and talked about the good old days.

I couldn't help but think of the memories that we have created these past few days as we put together this book of his life-so-far. I will never look at that book without reflecting on the lazy, hazy days of his summer holidays when we had the time to work on this. Together.

Each and every time I create a physical, tangible memory that will outlast me, a part of me fast forwards to the time when one of the people in the memory will no longer be around.

As a parent, I assume I will be the first to leave this earth. When I work on these little projects, I feel like I'm leaving a part of me behind and it is just a way of keeping memories alive forever ...

But yesterday I felt uneasy. Just because I am oldest, it doesn't guarantee that I will outlive my children. What if I was the one left behind with nothing but my memories? I glanced at the Memory Book and it tugged at my heart strings. It is full. But it is not complete ...

As we wound up the day, My Youngest made some comment about the way we were looking back on his life and talking like two old souls. "And I'm only 14 ..."

We packed it up and left a small accumulation of memorabilia to deal with another day. I shook my head and wondered why I felt the need to complete what we had started that day because 'there is always tomorrow ...'

We take tomorrow for granted. Making memories today is the only guarantee we have. I'm grateful for opportunities to reflect and remember all that I have. Today. Because we never know what tomorrow will bring.