To Really Remember

     I awoke thinking about my brother’s widow. She married him on August 25, 1979. I sent her a text message to say I remembered that day.  My dress was a lovely shade of something like lavender; she wore the loveliest of white. It was a beautiful wedding.

     Now that my brother is passed, I remember that day in a more earnest way. Beth was an especially fine wife to him for many years.

     My daughters sometime drill me. They like to see how many birthdays I can recall among our family, friends and acquaintances. I can easily recall a birthday and sometimes an anniversary.  But, I fail more often than not to send a card, an e-mail or even a text message to acknowledge it.  Even saying "Happy Birthday" via telephone is like being at work.  It just doesn't happen; landline or cellular.   Yet it is great having my children think I’m really good at something.

      However, when I begin to take pride in my knack for recall, the reality surfaces that recall is one thing–my remembrance, or lack thereof, is quite another. My failings are ever before me.

     In the comings and goings of my daily life, I pass many buildings with a cross. Sometimes I recall what the symbol means.  And, then sometimes, I stumble across words as poignant as these:

     "And, He took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them,saying, 'This is My body given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.'"  (Luke 22:19) 
        
      I know it's fitting to recall God's work of redemption on my behalf. Yet, how often do I remember to the point of  really pondering just why it was so necessary?  I'm probably in good company in the lack of  remembering and pondering such.   I'm learning, though, to just accept that it was so necessary and be grateful it was done so willingly.

       In doing so it makes me a better person.

     My brother’s widow was, indeed, a fine wife. He loved her so. I will send her another text message. I want her to know that I really remember and I'm forever grateful.