Making Memories

There's a scene in the movie "The Parent Trap" where one of the twins, pretending to be her sister, hugs her grandfather tightly and kind of sniffs at him.  When he asks what she's doing she replies: "Making a memory! Years from now, when I'm all grown up, I'll always remember my grandfather and how he always smelled of peppermint and pipe tobacco."  Since my own grandpa also smelled of peppermint and pipe tobacco, this idea charmed  me the very first time I heard it.  And it contained an idea that has stuck with me ever since:  We can deliberately choose to remember certain moments.

As I work at holiday preparations I often muse about what will make this Christmas memorable.  It's not always possible to predict - some of the best memories are completely unplanned, but not all.  As I look back over my Christmas memories it seems like it's about half and half.  Half of my favorite memories were created by someone's intention: carefully chosen gifts, invited guests, inspired worship.  Others were happenstance: blizzards, random encounters, life-stages.  Either way, memories shape both our anticipation and our definition of Christmas.

I have many memories of Christmases past.  Most of them make me smile.  Two have shaped my Christmas perceptions more than any of the others.  The first is probably from around age six.  That was the year my mom introduced the tradition of Jesus' birthday cake. I can remember singing Happy Birthday to Jesus on Christmas day. There were even candles.  It made the central point of the whole celebration so clear to me. The second was my last Christmas before becoming a parent. I was, as they say in the Bible, great with child.  There would be no traveling to parents or in-laws that year.  I remember hearing the Christmas story that year as if for the first time: a young couple, far from home, a child about to be born. . . it was God's story and it was my story.

Like Mary, I have pondered these, and many other memories, in my heart for years.  Some of them may bear little resemblance to the "facts" of the event or to someone else's memory of it.  They are my memories, and they are part of who I am.  Like a river running through the hills, my memories have shaped the landscape of my life.  They have rounded the sharp places and created new routes in my thoughts. Looking for things worth remembering is a useful habit, especially if you choose well.

I know, and we all know, people who seem to remember all the slights, the hurts and the disappointments of their lives. While they may truly never have had a happy moment to remember, I think it's more likely that their constant focus on past hurt has blinded them to the good things in the present.  Others are constantly comparing this year to their "perfect" memories of Christmas past and always feeling that the present falls short. This is equally blinding. We can't really focus on two things at the same time. This is where looking for things worth remembering can be helpful. If we are looking for things to happily remember in the future, we will not be busy remembering unhappy things from the past or finding fault with the present.  (I'm not advocating for pretending things never happened or that everything is perfect when it's not.) I am just choosing to make memories in the present. To BE PRESENT in the present and not lost in the past.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas and please, make some wonderful memories!

A Sign of the Times

I don't shop much.  I developed a real aversion to shopping when I was a single mother living at the very edge of my means or beyond.  Time spent at the mall seemed to bring out bitterness and anger that I wanted to keep in check - so I just quit going there.  Since then, I have narrowed my habits to the point where I visit only a handful of stores on a regular basis.  Lately though, I've had occasion to go to a bunch of stores and I feel a little bit like a tourist.

One thing has caught my eye that I think is clearly a sign of the times.  In every store there are piggy banks of every conceivable shape and size. Big piggies, little piggies, pastel piggies and bold piggies.  Piggies with polka dots, stripes and the logo of every major league team and most of the popular college teams.   There are piggy banks for kids, and piggy banks clearly for adults.  And there are lots of other kinds of banks too - the ones that keep a running total of your deposits with an electronic display.  The ones that will sort your change for easy rolling.  Banks that talk to you when you put money in them.  It's phenomenal.  And telling.

If I were actually a tourist, I might interpret this as a sign of American self-reliance; that America is so rich because even its children are taught to save for a rainy day from a very early age. In reality, it is a clear indication of the current economic conditions.  For me, it is also nostalgic. I had several piggy banks during my childhood years.  The most favored one wasn't a pig at all, but rather a spaniel that bore a striking resemblance to my Grandpa's dog Frisky.  And that bank came from my Grandpa, who I believe got it free from some bank vying for his business.  Does this mean we will start getting toasters for opening accounts again?  I'm guessing my twenty-something readers don't even know what I'm talking about here.

People who came through the depression knew the true value of a dime.  And we are beginning to realize it too. Money is a tool. Everyone knows the value of a good tool: writers like certain kinds of pens, gardeners like certain kinds of rakes, cooks like certain kinds of knives.  I wonder if we quit seeing money as a tool when we quit seeing money and started swiping cards for everything.  It would appear that money is real again, in the eyes of the American shopper anyway.

These piggy banks give me a flutter of hope.  People are figuring out what they need to teach their kids about money.  And, they are teaching them to wait for what they want.  And that, in the end, is the truest value of a piggy bank.  Learning to wait for what you want.  Learning to work toward it, one dime at a time. Because anything that is worth having requires this.  Getting an education requires mastering one thing at a time.  Growing a garden requires waiting for the produce to ripen.  Raising competent children requires daily  investments of time and love. Life is not like the lottery - it's like the piggy bank - and children who learn this are way ahead when they reach adulthood.

Always drive a car big enough to carry a cello. . .

Yesterday I saw one of the early signs of the holidays: the car with the wreath on its grille. That got me to thinking about all the bits of wisdom related to cars that I have collected from other parents and from my own experience.  The advice about the cello obviously came from a parent with musical children and it was very good advice.  Driving your kids, and their friends, where they need to go is a great way to stay connected in the midst of your crazy schedule.  As the driver, you become invisible to everyone behind the front seat. And, if you can keep your mouth shut, you can find out a lot about what your kids are really thinking and doing. (If you decide to talk about something you overheard - don't blow your own cover!  Find another reason to introduce the topic so you can continue eavesdropping!)

Another useful item from my collection: Road trips are a great way to bond during the silent years.  Even the most remote teen cannot bear two days in the car without conversation.  Eventually they will make some kind of overture and you can probably have some meaningful discussions, if you are willing to wait in silence for a while. 

Also, driving in the dark can provide great opportunities for embarrassing discussions.  If you can bring your self to open the discussion by remarking on a XXX-video store or billboard for a "gentlemen's club" you can find yourself addressing a lot of questions your teens may be carrying around with them. I once, in the dark,  explained the actual meaning of every forbidden word my kids had ever seen written on a bathroom wall (and why we obviously shouldn't use them).  Definitely a discussion that would not have happened face to face in the light of day!

From another friend: when your kid drives someplace alone for the first time, find someone to wait with until the "I have safely arrived phone call comes."   This is a multi-phase kind of rule.  First they drive to the grocery store or church or school by themselves.  Later they drive to the suburbs.  Then, it's the next big town over and eventually it's an interstate trip. Finally, they will take trips and tell you AFTER the fact.  And you'll be relieved you didn't have to worry the whole time they were driving from college to Canada just because they'd never left the country before. . .


And a few don'ts from the same sources:

• Don't ever give them a brand new car.
• Don't be afraid to make them earn their car: I know someone who successfully raised three fine young men by forcing them to drive the family minivan until they finished their Eagle Scout requirements.
• Don't make them bear all the expense of having a car.  1) Because they will have to have a job during the school year and then quit all their extra-curriculars to find the time to work.  And instead of hanging with  high-achieiving band members or athletes or school newspaper reporters, they'll be hanging with high-school dropouts at minimum wage jobs. 2) You can't really take it away if they bought it themselves.
• Don't assume they are going where they say they are going.
• Don't hesitate to make them responsible for washing and gassing it or for driving their younger sibs to things.

Cars are kind of like an extension of our homes.  Your family life can happen in them if you are intentional about it. I love the people who put antlers or wreaths on their cars at Christmas time!  They clearly know that their car is part of their home.  Forget the Christmas sleigh rides - just go for a jaunt in the family car.

Counting Blessings

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. When I was a kid, it was the only major holiday we had away from home because, for pastor's families, Christmas and Easter are always spent at home. But every Thanksgiving, we would go to church on Wednesday night and then leave for the grandparents' immediately after the service. It seemed to take forever (Google maps says that it was only about 3 hours) and we inevitably fell asleep in the car and awoke in our familiar room at Grandma's house with wonderful smells wafting up from the kitchen on Thanksgiving morning. In my little girl memories it snowed every year; this is probably incorrect but it is how I remember it. We would leave home in cold, wet, brown fall and wake up to untouched winter white splendor.


Before we fell asleep we always played the Thanksgiving version of the Alphabet Game in the car. Instead of I'm going on a trip and I'm taking a ___________ we would scramble to find something to be thankful for starting with each letter of the alphabet. (I know - this was sooooo little house on the prairie!) Thirty years later I became the driver and we played the same game over many long Thanksgiving road trips. And this year, on the night before Thanksgiving, I plan to fall asleep chanting "I am thankful for Austin's weirdness, I am thankful for books, I am thankful for church, and dogs, and Emily, and friends, and Gracie, and holidays, and", well, you get the idea. I could repeat this litany many times, changing every item - I am blessed beyond any deserving.

Most of us are blessed beyond measure and, as we barrel toward the ultimate consumer holiday, it is fitting that we stop and count up what we already have. It is the season of Thanks, and it's immediately followed by the season of Giving. Giving, not Getting.

I think it's easier for children to turn their attention toward giving if they are mindful of what they already have. So, after you have given Thanks, eaten turkey and dressing and cranberries and watched some football, I have a suggestion. Count your blessings. Then consider joining the Advent Conspiracy. You can check it out here:

Let your kids help you figure out who really could use a gift. Then, let them help pick it out. Or let them help figure out what to skip so that you can give more away. The video says it all - $10 Billion could solve the world's water issues. I am thankful that I can walk into my kitchen, turn on the tap and find clean water flowing out of it. Hot or cold - whatever I want! Next year, wouldn't it be awesome if we could be thankful that people all over the world have clean water?

Salt Water Cure

When I was growing up the American Cancer Society had a compelling set of public service announcements about the seven warning signs of cancer. One of those signs was "a sore that does not heal". I remember thinking that that was a ridiculously obvious sign - because sores always healed and you would certainly notice one that didn't. A sore that wouldn't heal was just unimaginable. Healing was both miraculous and ordinary.

Fast forward a few decades and I look around and see people who have scars from incredible traumas and disease but acknowledge their healing as their greatest blessing. And I see people with open wounds, physical or psychic, doing everything they can to be healed. And then there are those who continually re-open their old wounds, pick the scabs, to use a gross analogy. They don't seem to look for healing, they appear to relive the hurt over and over again in their mind's eye. Their hurt becomes their identity: wounded one, victim, patient.

I wonder a lot about those people. What makes them want to re-open their wounds? What makes them so unable to move on from their trauma or illness? Why do some people get stuck in sickness while others rise above it and go on to the next thing. Why doesn't God heal them? Is it because they don't believe healing is possible? Disclaimer here: I know that a lot of people have been deeply wounded by someone telling them they aren't being healed because they don't have enough faith. It is not my intent to suggest this in any way.

Healing is God's way. Jesus walked among us and healed many people. Many sought him out - crying out as blind Bartimaeus - Jesus, Master, have mercy on me. Others were brought by their friends or family - remember the story of the young man let down through the roof? Sometimes, he saw people and had compassion for them, healing whatever ailed them - even to raising a child from death on the way to the tomb.

So why do some people continue to be sick, or to make themselves sick? I don't know, but I believe that God is still at work healing them. Perhaps the wound we see is merely a symptom of a much deeper hurt or disease. Perhaps they fear wellness. A wise woman, with a very sick child, once told me that she knows that God will ultimately heal her son, she just doesn't know on which side of heaven it will occur. Healing is God's work. It happens in God's time. And God's time is not necessarily the same as mine.

God's healing work is out and about in the world today. Just the other day there were news reports that the vast majority of the oil spilled in the gulf is gone, eaten by microbes. Who saw that coming? Definitely a God-given healing to a deeply wounded body of water, all ,in God's good time, which was far sooner than we dared to dream. We don't yet know the full story of the healing of the gulf, or of our own. That will only come to us on the other side. In the meantime, let's make sure our kids notice God's miraculous healing, whenever and where ever it pops up!

It Gets Better

Last week people all over the place were posting videos and essays and other means of encouragement for high school kids, telling them that "it gets better". As you undoubtedly know, this began in response to the high number of suicides by gay youth but, gay or straight, high school can be a terrible part of life. Some of us look back on high school days as the most fun years of our lives. I'm not one of them. So I want to add my voice to everyone who says that it gets better.

"It gets better" is one of those incredibly simple facts of life that kids don't have the experience to recognize. And they often don't observe this as a phenomenon because we adults often work very hard at making life look easy. Why is that? I think there are definitely things that kids should be spared, but reality is probably not a good choice. Parents must decide what is appropriate to share, but every parent really ought to share with their kids when they find themselves in a tough spot. This is how kids learn that it does get better. And, when you share with them, it frees them to share when it's not good for them.

Maybe your worst days were in high school. Tell your kid about it. Maybe your worst year of work is this one because everyone at your company is waiting for the next layoff. You will probably make some changes in preparation for the worst, so explain to your kids why everyone's spending is curtailed. Then, when the crisis passes, you will have the chance to say "See! It gets better!" Maybe you have lost a beloved parent or friend - letting your kids see you grieve also lets them see that, over time, it gets better.

It gets better. Three little words of encouragement, a priceless gift. Somewhere, sometime in your life, someone has thrown you some much needed words of encouragement. Somebody said that you could do it; that you were improving; that they were glad to have you on their team. You smile as you think of it. It did get better! You've lived long enough to know this to be true.

There are people who believe that the easiest way to teach a child to swim is to throw them in the deep end of the pool. While struggling to swim enough to survive certainly motivates a kid to try hard, it's a dangerous practice. A kid can drown in the deep end of the pool. It makes more sense to me, to get in the water with your kid at the shallow end and work your way into the deep water, adding more skills as you go. Then, when you let go of your child and she swims to the side of the pool she has a sense of mastery, and a deep inner knowledge that she is getting better. And better.

Look for opportunities to teach this lesson. Your kids, your nieces and nephews or grandkids or neighbor kids all need to hear that it gets better. They don't know it, but you do. This little piece of knowledge can be the raft that holds them up when they are close to drowning. It really does get better. Pass it on!

It's Child's Play

The group I work with is going on retreat this week and we have been making promises to the new members of the staff about how much fun we have playing Taboo™. This, our favorite bonding ritual, is followed closely by a game called Imaginiff™. With both of these games, what makes it fun is only partly the game itself. The primary ingredient of the fun is the particular group of players. A secondary ingredient is the memory of games past.

Playing is a vastly important component of life. I recently listened to an interview with Adele Diamond (one of the founders of the field of Developmental Cognitive Neuroscience) and was struck by what she had to say about play and learning. While she was particularly interested in dramatic play, I couldn’t help but jump from there to my own experiences with playing games, period. In her research on the pre-frontal cortex (I’m giving you all this so you can read more yourself) she has found that play gives kids better “Executive Functions”. There are three executive functions: Inhibitory Control, Working Memory and Cognitive Flexibility. These are pretty much exactly what they sound like they might be and here’s how they “play out” in games.

Inhibitory Control is basically waiting your turn, or waiting for the right time. This is one of the first things that playing games teaches us. Can you wait until it’s your turn? Can you wait to show us what’s in your hand until it won’t hurt your strategy?

Working Memory is just what it sounds like too. What do you need to hold in your brain to play the game? If you are playing Taboo, you have to remember which words are forbidden until your team guesses the word or your turn is over. In Canasta you have to remember what your meld is for this turn, and so on.

Cognitive Flexibility is being able to create a new strategy when conditions change. If I’m playing Yahtzee™ and I hold two 2’s and roll three 4’s I am probably going to shift my plan to collect on the full house instead of going for the 2’s.

Did you have any idea that playing with your kids could build such important skills? I wouldn’t tell them, but I would definitely make a visit to the game cupboard over Thanksgiving weekend (or sooner) and give your kids the gift of Executive Function. Even if they come grudgingly they will mostly likely get involved to some degree – and if a board game won’t work, how about going bowling or playing with the Wii? The benefits will be the same - fun, learning and memories.

One last tale of Cognitive Flexibility: I recently heard a mother say “Marco” in a crowded room to which her child dutifully responded “Polo” and ended the mother’s search. Who knew it would work out of the water?