Holding On To Good Memories

Growing up in Northern Michigan was filled with cold winters and breezy summers. In the winters, I spent a lot of time at the winter park. There you could ice skate, ski down a short hill, or risk your life attempting to sled down what was known as ‘suicide hill.’ Not a very nice name, but appropriately named as it was designed so as to not allow anyone to make it from the top of the hill to the bottom. The folks who ran the park thought it a good idea, well probably more of a funny idea for them, to make it extremely difficult by putting in jumps and rough areas on the hill. There were so many it was impossible not to hit a dozen of them.  

Unless you were velcroed to your sled or securely tied to it, you weren’t going to make it to the bottom without wiping out midway down. That didn’t stop a bunch of us kids from attempting it though, over and over and over again. Each time believing the next attempt would be a success. I’m sure the owners sat in their warm little office laughing hysterically at the little rug rats playing on the hill. I’m sure with each wipeout they would high-five one another and put a mark on a piece of paper while humming ‘another one bites the dust, another one bites the dust, and another onedown, another one down, another one bites the dust.’   

Summers were filled with riding our bikes and exploring the woods behind our home. The blessing of living in the country for us was the wild fruit that grew behind our house. The woods were filled with wild blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries. We also had rhubarb that grew in the woods, too. Back then we didn’t worry about bugs, or dirt; we just wiped it off and ate it! Of course, we also drank from a water hose and from the little creek down from my grandma's house.  

That might explain why the doctor told me my immune system is so strong. Years later, as I stood on the bank of the little creek I used to drink from and occasionally play in, I noticed the flow of water went through a cow pasture. Nothing like drinking cold Michigan water from a creek, while watching the cows drink from it too, as it flowed towards me. 

The falls in Michigan were filled with days raking the leaves and bagging them, but not until we had made large piles and spent hours jumping into them. We didn’t realize that only created more work for us. But when you’re a kid, it's all about having fun and enjoying life without a care in the world. Recently, my dad went home to be with the Lord. It was unexpected, and my sister and I were unprepared.  

When I was two years old, my dad went to prison for eight years. I don’t remember the trial, but I do remember when he got out. My dad could rebuild engines with his eyes closed and knew how to fix anything around the house, or anything with a motor. Not bad for someone with an eighth-grade education.  

My dad also spent six years in the Navy and was part of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Spending every other weekend with him and my stepmom was always fun. But as I look back on my childhood, I wish I had listened more and played less when I was with him. I could have learned to work on engines and fix things around the house. That explains why I have to have others do that for me now, which my wife is thankful for because I’d leave a mess if I attempted it.  

Here's what I love about memories, though, and I think it's what God intended. We can relive those moments that brought us such joy, almost as if we’re back in that time. So, though I miss my mom and my dad, and other loved ones, I have so many memories that I can enjoy. And for a few moments, while the world around us teeters on crazy and crazier, I can step away and go back to some moment in time and enjoy a few minutes of laughter and joy. And that is worth holding onto!