I have this box of memories that i keep tucked away under my bed. within the pastel colored cardboard confines of this otherwise uninteresting box are years of my life, and moments once forgotten, but always treasured.
you see this box has a card that my dad sent to me one year with flowers for Valentine's Day. Since then, I've received flowers on Valentine's a handful of times, but never have they meant as much as that single little card. Then there is a racquetball that I've kept for years just so I can remember my dad running around and enjoying life. There are pictures of course and some of his old cards from auto auctions. I kept this "fancy" wooden pen set he had at his desk at his dealership. I even have notepaper with old memories written down in my childish handwriting as an attempt to hold on to him forever. Then there is an old birthday card upon which he wrote a reminder to me to never forget him. certainly not the least of all these things is his Bible, well worn as his long, thin fingers used to so often flip through the pages. There are silly pictures he let me draw in the back cover of his Bible, and the front is filled with Bible verse I wrote in there as a child. And then tucked away in Isaiah, my dad's favorite book of the Bible, is a stack of his notes neatly folded, waiting on someone to come back and read them again one day.
these things are not easy to sort through, yet i'll never get rid of them no matter how many times i move and throw things out. these things i will treasure always. but as i flip through the cards and papers, i'm struck by my dad telling me to never forget him. truly i am saddened because i did not ever forget him, but for such a long time, i forgot all he taught me. i can only imagine how disappointed he might have been and how hurt.
these days though as time moves forward and i come back to what i knew all along, i am hopeful to not forget again. i am learning to wait patiently, to come to my own understanding, and to operate out of grace, mercy, and forgiveness. i have learned my lesson. hopefully in the future reminders of my dad will not be met with remorse, but with joy for knowing he would be proud.