To carry with us forever

When I think of the memories I’ve made with friends, certain events come to mind:

• There was that bike trip with Violeta when we were living in Japan, cycling along a rocky coastline and camping on beaches, the sound of the surf lulling us to sleep.

• I remember driving home from rugby games in college—a bunch of girls crammed in the back of the car, talking and joking and singing along to music at the top of our lungs as we drove through the night.

• I remember the first cocktail party with my cookbook club. We all dressed up fancy, but ended the evening shoes off and feet dangling in the swimming pool. I can’t help but smile to think of us holding up party skirts to wade into the shallow water.

But I recently realized that, in large part, I have stopped making memories with my friends.

I didn’t come to this on my own. I read an essay—and I wish I could tell you where, but I can’t find it again. The gist, however, was this:

As we get older and our lives busier, our friendships fall into predictable patterns. Maybe we have semi-regular dinners with a friend to catch up, or we talk on the phone, but too often we stop generating new memories, we stop having adventures together.

As I read the essay, I recognized my own life. The past few years have been low on memory making. Part of this is pandemic fallout: catch-up sessions shifted to the phone or online; I still don’t feel up to planning special events. I’ve been in maintenance mode for a long while now, not creating anything new.

But I don’t want to look back on this decade and not have moments that stand out and sparkle. Too much of life since 2020 just blurs together.

So, I’m thinking about how I can plan more adventures with friends—an overnight camping trip, a visit to a garden I’ve been wanting to check out. And maybe bigger things down the road (I’ve always wanted to do an annual friend retreat). I’m thinking about how to get out of the groove I have fallen into.

Last week I took a dear friend hiking—something we’ve never done together. It had been her birthday in June, and I suggested a hiking day to celebrate, but she came down with Covid instead (worst birthday gift ever). So this was a postponed adventure.

And the thing is—we’re all busy, and it’s so easy to let these things slide—but we were both so happy to have done it. I took a photo of us on the trail, flushed with the heat and exertion, my friend looking happier than I have seen her in a long time. (One adventure down, one memory made). Now we’re talking about doing it monthly.

I thought a lot about memories when my nieces and nephew were young. I wanted to fill them up with so much good they would carry it with them forever. But, somehow, I’ve forgotten to give the same treatment to myself.

So, consider this a reminder if you need one. Plan those trips, adventures, and birthday celebrations. There will always be obligations—work and life and various caretaking roles—but we all deserve to be filled up with good memories to carry with us forever.

I was so glad to be reminded of this.

**I’m pulling out my Summer List this week, to make sure I get the good in. How about you?

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