Here we are, in the midst of a pandemic, waiting for another legendary election, waiting to go back to church as we used to, hoping for that job promotion and praying that we stay healthy during the coming winter months.
Really, if we were to take the word of every politician out there, we would be doomed to an eternity in hell if we choose the wrong candidate. If we refused to wear a mask because we can’t breathe when we do, we wouldn’t have to fear being thrown into jail or fined for doing so. What if, instead of living each day in fear of one thing or another, we decide to create new ways of doing things that will lead to new memories.
Memories are the things that fuel our old age. They capture our minds and fill us with warmth beyond measure. The good old days were not always that great, but the memories created during those times will live on and give us some hope for the future.
When I was a kid, it seemed my self-appointed job to entertain people. One of my grandsons felt that same obligation when he was a young boy. He said he felt it his responsibility to make people laugh. We’ve both grown up since then, but somehow that desire to entertain and make people laugh is still within our souls.
I remember taking a few of our old sheets and clothes pinning them to a rope outside. I’d find a few set pieces to place in front of the “curtains” and rounded up a few of the neighbor kids to make a play. As every young entrepreneur will tell you, you have to add some popcorn and lemonade to sell just to sweeten the pot for your audience and make a ka-ching sound in your pocket as well. Our plays were not worthy of praise, but the popcorn was good. It was a great way for neighbors to get together and share time and words of encouragement.
Well, some things don’t change even in the middle of gathering restrictions. The little theatre I’m involved with has been holding outdoor performances for the last three months. Two of these shows featured adult performers and one consisted of kids from 6th grade and up. In spite of a few rainy day rearrangements and a chilly October rendering of readings from Edgar Allan Poe, all three performances were a success.
The memory of those old backyard shows warmed my heart as semi-icicles formed on my masked face. Actually the mask was a nice face warmer. People sat socially distanced as a warm bonfire crackled in the background.
It seems to me that when life gives us lemons, we can certainly make lemonade instead of a bitter concoction of angry thoughts and hatred. For a small moment in time, we can journey into a different place and escape the maddening sounds of the world. This time can lead to the formation of new memories that will carry us during future times – times that will return again soon. When that happens, we will look back on this time as a time of healing for our nation. What a lovely memory that will be.