I Will Remember

Growing up, one of the things I often heard my mother say was "Okay, I'll remember this. I will remember this. Are you sure that's what you want? Some day you are going to wish I didn't remember this." Sometimes it was a threat, other times it was a warning, but she was always telling us that she'd remember this wrong or prank that had been done to her. Why does this matter? As a kid I would wonder if she was keeping some master list of my wrongs, waiting only for some dreadful judgment day for me when she would unleash justice on me. The truth is far from this.

To understand this, you have understand my mom. The most important word to her in this thinly-veiled threat was remember. Mom wants her family to have memories, and not just any memories but ones worthy of being described as Kodak moments mixed with Norman Rockwell scenes.  She wants our memories to be overflowing scrapbooks whose pages abound with pictures of wonderful times together.  She may not know this, but she accomplished her goal.

My own mental scrapbooks include gems like a surprise trip to the water park. It could have been an ordinary trip, without any sort of fanfare to surround it, just another drive to the City, but Mom went out of her way to make it an event, and adventure. Blindfolded, my older brother and I could only guess our destination during the 45 minute car trip. Mom knew this would make for grand memories and rich entertainment, as these were the days before ipods and video games provided back seat entertainment for children.

Another of the gems in my mental scrapbooks is when my parents made sure that Santa found us at our temporary home. We were in the middle of a move and had to move into the old family farm house before our home was built next door. We tried to wait for for warmer weather to move out, but we had to be in the farm house by Christmas... and the deadline was fast approaching with no warmth in sight. We ended up moving on the coldest Christmas Eve in Oklahoma history. I remember Dad with his frost covered beard bringing in the bare essentials plus the Christmas tree and all its trimmings and Mom doing everything she could to keep the old farm house warm.  I don't remember being cold, but I guess Santa must have gotten our change of address form, because I remember having a blast playing with my new toys on Christmas morning in our new house.

There are many more, from an elaborate trip to Disneyland, to simple nightly family meals around a dinner table. Why has an attempt to understand this threat led us down a candy coated trip down memory lane?  To understand that, you need to know something else about my mom. You see she never remembered; judgment day hasn't come. I've heard this threat many times in my life, yet I am still living to tell the tale.

Has she really forgotten? Possibly, but that isn't the reason for my pardon. My mom forgives. I have transgressed against her many times, and still she forgives. She forgives all the fires (kitchen and grass), she forgives all the wrecked cars and speeding tickets. She forgives the hurtful words and the sleepless nights.

This forgiveness has taught me how to forgive. More importantly, it taught me how to be forgiven by our Heavenly Father. It has been this forgiveness that has allowed our family to have so many great memories together. Understanding the true nature of forgiveness has taught me not to fear any Judgment day, and that is the best thing to remember.

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