An Envelope of Memories

I thought that, just today, I would do my praise a bit differently, in prose. You may not know this, but my father passed away 3 and a half years ago. My Mother died on the 8^th of this month. That means that my siblings and I, with much help, are sorting through over 80 years of living and accumulating memories for both of my parents. The odd little things that they kept over the years have brought both surprise and delight and they have caused a tear or a laugh to touch the hearts and faces of those who are sorting through all those years.

In the course of the sorting, my aunt came across something odd and asked me if I might know what it was. It was a handmade envelope, made by a child, with a picture on the front and inside of it was a handful of old pictures of my father engaged in having fun with his family. I saw it and my heart skipped a beat. I remembered that envelope well, and I remembered the day that I made it. All those emotions came flooding into my 57 year old brain.

I was in third grade, heading into 4^th grade, so 8 or 9 years old. My father had just received orders to Vietnam. I had drawn a line down the middle of the envelope and placed beautiful living flowers in bright sunshine on one side. They represented, in my young mind, my father returning alive from the war, as some of my friend’s dads had not. The other half depicted the same flowers, dead, in a black world with bombs exploding in the sky instead of the sunlight. It represented the horrible possibility of never seeing my father alive again. Inside it I placed pictures of my dad that I slipped out of photosets that I had found in various places in our house. I remember many times, during that year of deployment, pulling out those pictures, when I was alone, and just praying that God would bring my Daddy home safely. He Did.

Now, looking back over all the years that I was blessed to share with my father, I am even more grateful than I was then for his safe return. As a soldier’s daughter, I learned from him the value of life, the power of faith and the true meaning of family. For all those who shared the path my parents walked became a blessing, a friend, and, very often, family. To this day, they call to check on me, they step up to lend me hand with what I’m facing and they are never far from my side when troubles knock on my door.

Now, my parents have truly gone, earth is poorer and heaven is richer. And I have an envelope of memories that I made as a child and that my mother, whether understanding its purpose or not, found and saved with all of her other treasures. Please, take some time to make an envelope of memories for each of your loved ones and hold it tight in your heart. That way, when years have passed, or only days, and God calls them home, you can open up that envelope and smile at all the loving memories.