Tag Archives: change

Remember……..

Isn’t it amazing that there are certain events in our lives that have been engraved in our memory so deeply that we remember almost every detail about that event? I remember asking my parents, “Do you remember the attack on Pearl Harbor? Where were you and what were you doing?” Mom and Dad remembered vividly. Each time I asked them about it, they recalled the very same details in the very same way.

On December 7, 1941 my parents were Juniors in high school and were already a dating couple. In fact they were together that fateful Sunday afternoon when they first heard about the Japanese attack on the radio. Dad and Mom were drinking an RC Cola and talking with friends right in front of Jordan’s Drug Store on the square in Ashland. It was a Sunday afternoon gathering spot for teens. My parents were listening to Big Band music on the radio when the announcer broke in for a special news bulletin. From that day on, their lives changed. Dad even remembered thinking that eventually he and all of his friends would be going to war. Each time either of them recounted that day, they brought up a friend who was talking with them at Papa Sims’ car– Ned Browning, an Auburn freshman who was home for the weekend. My parents both lamented that it was the very last day they ever saw Ned. Ned died somewhere in the Pacific before the war was ended.

For me it was remembering the day President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. I was a second grader in November of 1963. It was just after lunchtime when our teacher, Mrs. Garrett, was called out into the hallway by Mrs. Levie. Like it was yesterday I remember exactly what she said when she returned to the room. Mrs. Garrett quietly closed the door and said,

“Boys and girls, President Kennedy has been shot in the head.” She even pointed at her temple as she said it. I remember being stunned. One of the kids in the class spoke up immediately and said,

“My daddy’s gonna be glad somebody did it.”  At that outburst, Mrs. Garrett grabbed him by the arm, jerked him up, and blistered his behind! I remember not knowing what to think, or what to do. I knew that my Dad was not very fond of President Kennedy—I had heard him say so—but I couldn’t imagine him wanting the President to be shot!

School let out about an hour early that day. I walked home with my friend Cathy. We were both confused and a bit scared. When I stepped into my house, I remember seeing my Mom sitting in the den in front of our black and white TV watching the news coverage. She was crying. Mom got up and met me as I came through the kitchen and held me close to her as she cried and said,

“I’m just so sorry you and Mike and Donna have to grow up in this terrible world.”

I was relieved knowing that my parents didn’t think his death was a good thing—not that I figured that they would—but it was comforting to know for sure. Second graders need clarity.

In college I asked fellow students “Where were you when Kennedy was assassinated?”  Just like me, every one of them could recall almost every detail. Even my wife who lived in South America in 1963, remembered it vividly.  Why? Because our baby-boomer world changed that day.

For my children it was the attack on 9/11. They can relive it in their minds like it was yesterday. Again, the world as we all knew it changed.

Remembrance is part of the uniqueness of humanity.  It has always been this way–  “Passover,” “The Parting of the Red Sea,”  “Lexington and Concord,” “Remember the Alamo,” “Remember Pearl Harbor,” “Remember 9/11.”– they all take us back to a singular moment that the world changed.  Even in the book of Isaiah we read the prophet Isaiah’s quote:

“In the year King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord……” Isaiah 6:1

According to Isaiah, his life changed that day. During a period of intense grief, Isaiah saw a vision, and he was never the same after that day.

It’s good to remember. It’s good to go back and relive the days that changed our lives.
And it won’t be just one or two, but many days where even the finest details are forever etched into our minds. Sometimes it causes us great pain, and other times great joy. But nevertheless, they are defining moments.

It is why I celebrate Christmas and Easter;

It is why I remember the day of my Baptism;

It is why I recount the miracles of God that I have personally witnessed.

It is good to remember.

“Remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me…”
Isaiah 46:9

EAU DE PARFUM

my sin perfumeWho remembers this famous brand of perfume?  It was all the rage from 1924 to 1980– at least for true perfume aficionados. My Sin (Mon Peche) by Lanvin, was created back in 1924 by a mysterious Russian lady called Madame Zed.  Here is its description by professionals who obviously have better noses than mine:

This feminine, provocative and dangerously seductive fragrant composition begins with aldehydes, bergamot, lemon, clary sage and neroli. The middle notes are: ylang-ylang, jasmine, rose, clove, orris, lily-of-the-valley, narcissus and lilac. The base is oriental – woody with vetiver, vanilla, musk, woody notes, tolu balm, styrax and civet.

Whatever.

My dad owned a small town drugstore in Ashland.  He always carried My Sin (only one bottle of it) but kept it locked up in a glass case along with one tiny bottle of Chanel #5.  It was a handy gift possibility for some panic stricken semi-wealthy guy who forgot his wife on Christmas, Valentines Day, their anniversary, or her birthday.  It’s amazing what people will pay when faced with the probability of lifelong scorn.  I can’t say for sure that I ever smelled the expensive perfume.  My mom didn’t wear it; neither did either of my grandmothers.  They stuck with Jungle Gardenia, White Shoulders, and Tabu.  I might have gotten a whiff of My Sin’s legendary fragrance when some rich lady sashayed through our church foyer, but who knows?

Continue reading EAU DE PARFUM

THE PARABLE OF THE CROQUET SET

croquet setMy wife and I recently brought home an old croquet set from her parents’ house in Nashville.  She remembers playing croquet with her family in Paraguay when she was a young girl.  In fact, they played with that very croquet set with traces of Paraguayan mud still present on the balls and mallets.  My children also remembered playing croquet when we visited Peggy’s parents in the summertime, after they retired from their missionary work and moved back to Tennessee.  Our girls have vivid and happy memories of those croquet matches with the cousins in the Skinner’s backyard.  Grandpa was always the one who set it up.  He knew all the rules and took time to oversee every game, making sure all the grandkids played fairly and correctly.  It was great fun for all the cousins, and usually ended with Grandma inviting everyone in for cookies and ice cream, or maybe even fresh, cold watermelon.

Continue reading THE PARABLE OF THE CROQUET SET