By Jennifer Allen
When I think about March I think about spring time, and Easter, and basketball.
As the tide of March Madness washes over our nation with the arrival of the NCAA Tournament I can’t help but remember all the spring and summer evenings my dad and I spent shooting hoops in our driveway.
It’s not like we even play anymore, my dad and I. To tell the truth it’s been years since we’ve challenged each other to a shooting match. A combination of my dad’s bad shoulder and my interest in other things brought our days of heated rivalry to an end long ago. But despite this fact, our memories remain.
To me these memories are priceless because more than anything it was my dad and me together. Every time my dad put his wild schedule aside to play H-O-R-S-E or Around the World with me he showed me his love for me was wilder than any deadline, report or phone call waiting for his attention.
Isn’t this what we all need to know, that the love of our Father is wild? And when we stop and take the time to make memories with the people we love isn’t that what we’re saying? “My love for you is wild. Wilder than everything else.”
Time moves quickly, but memories hold time still. And the memories we make today are what will “re-member” us in the future.
Ann Voskamp writes about this term, “re-membering.” In her simple yet profound way she explains how the act of remembering God’s goodness to us, through the practice of thanksgiving, draws the fractured pieces of our minds and hearts together and makes us whole in Him.
I think it’s the same with memories, with good memories of the time we share and the people we love. Whether it’s with our children, our family, or our friends, the special moments we share today, both big and small, will draw us together tomorrow. When our lives become fractured by time and distance, memories re-member us.
Even though my dad and I don’t play a lot of basketball anymore I am thankful for the memories that flood my mind when March Madness rolls around. Precious memories that time, distance, and the general unraveling of a life can never take away.
Last summer, I’m sad to say, my mom decided it was time for our old hoop to come down. My dad and I were not in favor of the decision. It was sad to watch it go. But the net I saved and when it came time to celebrate my dad’s birthday I tucked it into a gift bag and gave it to him.
I know it was just an old rotten net but it was my way of telling him how much our memories and the time we’ve spent together mean to me. It was my way of saying, “My love is wild too.”