A deep breath of salty air. The sand melting underfoot. Ocean water lapping the shore and my ankles. These are just a few of the highlights of a single memory made just shy of my wedding day which I knew would take me far from the shore I grew up near. I didn’t know then how long I’d be away, so I am thankful that this memory was made intentionally.
When making a memory, first realize that there is a moment that has the potential to be lost. The moment described above is one that helps me look back at my time at the beach without feeling as though I need to return. I enjoy going back to the beach, but I don’t long for it because I can remember enjoying it while I had it. I seized that memory with the purpose of recalling it when I missed the fresh ocean breeze.
Secondly, involve all of the senses you have available. I can almost feel the water against my skin and the sand under my feet (a feeling my husband does not miss). There is no sound machine that can match my memory of the ocean rushing over the coarse sand. Although I didn’t taste the ocean water that evening, I do know what it tastes like.
Finally, close your eyes to confirm that the memory has been made. If you can still see the scene before you, you will be able to recall it later. I made the aforementioned memory over ten years ago, and I can still feel the poetry of God’s creation whenever my skin is feeling a little too dry.
I am thankful for those pictures, scents, sounds, or tastes that jog pleasant memories. Memories made intentionally, however, help me look forward to what tomorrow holds without loathing the passing of time. My challenge is to do this while I am with my children and to teach them to make memories as well.