The importance of making memories

Death is a part of life. It is as certain as breathing. And whether or not you believe in an afterlife (which I do), it is also certain that when someone dies, we will not see them again in this life.

I was reminded of that again just a few days ago, when my grandmother passed away after a long and hard battle with cancer.

For those of you who did not know my grandmother, she was the toughest woman I’ve ever known. Truth is, I think there was a little part of me that thought right up until the end she was going to make like Chuck Norris and deliver a roundhouse kick to the face of death. She was that tough.

But after having my grandmother in my life for 48 years, all I have left now are a lot of memories. And that’s what I want to talk about for a bit.

When we lose someone close to us, be it a family member, a friend or whoever, those memories can be a source of great comfort. I know they have been to me these last few days.

When I lost my grandfather in 2010, one of the biggest regrets I had was that we did not have as many memories together as I would’ve liked. Pop’s passing left my grandmother as my sole remaining grandparent, and I said to myself at that time I did not wish to have that regret with her.

Even though I lived far away from Southeast Missouri during a big part of the last 12 years, my grandmother and I still got to do a lot of memorable things together.

In 2016, I took her to visit Memphis for the first time in her life and also took her to a Caribbean-themed restaurant called Bahama Breeze. Four years later, we took a road trip to Muscle Shoals, drove by the legendary recording studio down there and also visited the campus of the University of North Alabama, where we got to see live lions that served as the university mascots.

While I am not a big fan of Lynyrd Skynyrd (and neither was my grandmother), we were both jamming to Sweet Home Alabama when we crossed the Tennessee-Alabama border into the state.

Last January, I took her to Olive Garden in Cape Girardeau for the first time in her life. Even though we ended up eating our meal in the parking lot because of the pandemic, it was still Olive Garden.

As my grandmother would often say, I said all that so I can say all this. Never pass up a chance to make memories with family and friends, Because one day, that’s all we’re going to have left of them. And when that day comes, we’re going to need those memories to get through it.

Mike Buhler is a staff writer for the Daily American Republic. Contact him at mbuhler.dar@gmail.com.