The Art of Remembering

Isn’t it wonderful when someone remembers something about you? something small but specific? I have a friend whose mom gives her serseys (which, for her, are little gifts that she needs or wants like Burt’s Bees Lemon Butter Cuticle Cream (which is great stuff) or cute stationary). I always felt like the serseys she received were such a symbol of how well her mom knew her daughter, how closely she watched, listened, and remembered.

My brother has a fabulous memory (as did my father). My brother wrote my father a letter after we found out that my dad was sick. The letter detailed all the things my brother wanted to thank Daddy for doing for him over the years, even the smallest things like eating the raisins out of my brother's Little Debbie snacks. It was amazing all the little things he remembered our dad doing for him.

This week Mel and her hubby came over for pizza with me and the boys (C was in class, although he did get to eat some left over pizza). They brought me some mustard-flavored pretzels that are favorites of mine (Gardetto brand, if you are interested), and I cannot seem to find them at any of my local grocers. My friend has a talent for remembering, and I so appreciate it… but I am not as gifted in memory. For my bridesmaids, I added a small package of each one’s favorite candy to her gifts. I felt good about individualizing their gifts with something I remembered about each of them. Sometimes, I might see a little something that immediately calls to mind someone dear to me and think of getting it, but too many times I think “oh, they don’t need that” or “when will I even see them next to give them this?” Not so anymore! After the sense of delight those pretzels have given me, not just because they are tasty but because they are a gift of memory, I am going to try to become better at the art of remembering.