The Making of a Memory
One can't predict when or where they will come from, those memories that stay with us a lifetime and never fail to bring us warm, fuzzy feelings.
by Kathleene S. Baker
My husband had just finished loading his car. He made one final lap back through the house and then bounded into the kitchen. "All I have left to do is fill my thermos and I'm off." Down the drain went the hot water that had been warming his thermos. With a nostalgic look on his face he spoke softly, "When I filled this earlier, I thought of your mom."
"Honey, that's sweet. And, I bet she's watching right now with a big smile." Tears brimmed my eyelids.
"You know, I never fill my thermos that I don't think of her, and I always smile, too." Melancholy resonated in his voice, for Mother's recent death was still a fresh wound for both of us.
Year ago we had traveled to spend several days with my parents. The morning we were packing to head home, Mother glanced into the kitchen as Jerry was about to fill his thermos. Never one to interfere, she nonchalantly offered up a tidbit of advice, "Jerry, if you would fill that with hot water and let it sit a while, your coffee would stay hot longer on your drive."
The look on his face was priceless as her simple suggestion sunk in. Well of course it would! It only makes all the sense in the world! Who wouldn't know that? He ran the tap until it was piping hot and filled his thermos to the brim. Anxious to discuss this unique new idea, Jerry poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat down to enjoy a few more minutes with Mom.
Words of wisdom from a loving Mother-in-law made an impact that will never be forgotten. When spoken that morning, Jerry didn't realize her words would forever ring in his ears, or that they would bring a smile to his face time and time again. Moreover, Mother would never have dreamt that her words would become a treasured and everlasting memory in the heart of her son-in-law.
The "fondest, lasting memories" don't necessarily come from "major moments" in life... the making of a memory simply happens...
©2005 Kathleene S. Baker
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Reprinted with permission from the author
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