Sometimes, the best memories come from the simplest of things. They do not always emerge from exhilirating adventures or adrenaline-filled excursions. It can often be the most nondescript days that produce little moments of ineffable joy.
Today, I write not about my own trip down memory lane. Quite unusually, I write here to talk about the recollections my sons and I have been sharing of times gone by; memories from all the different places we have lived in over the years. (And I can tell you, we have had quite a peripatetic life for the most part).
It’s heartwarming to learn, for example, that my oldest son recalls a time in Saudi Arabia, when he and I had walked together along a palm-tree lined avenue and then were sitting perched against our parked car sharing a bag of Doritos. It was early evening, so the sun was tolerably hot and we were enjoying a chat about nothing in particular. I myself had forgotten that day and I certainly had no idea he had remembered it till he told me just recently. It’s lovely to know that those kind of special memories don’t only belong to me but also to my sons.
It goes to show you never know the impact small things make on your children. Better still, those indelible photos taken with their minds are born of surprisingly unassuming outings with the family. Memories don’t have to be created from lavish and expensive displays of affection. They certainly don’t need to be created in the public domain. I much prefer a private and quiet life without drama of any sort. For that reason, despite existing on a select few social media platforms like Facebook, I consider my own life definitely not for the scrutiny of random strangers.
I’m sure those reading this post now would argue that I have fallen into the very trap I promised myself not to fall into. Precious moments between my sons and myself should be kept out of view. However, the very purpose of mentioning such an anecdote here is to serve as a modest attempt to help others see that there is a happy and intimate alternative to the public carnival lifestyle. Wonderful memories don’t even need to have heavily-planned prior investment. That is a fallacy that Covid-19 has definitely taught us. Magic memories can evolve naturally on their own without any effort. My wish is that adults understand that there is no definite correlation between the amount of money spent on something and the memory which it creates. What does matter is the presence of the heart.
For me, I live little private celebrations every day.