Day 7 – The Bad Memories are the Best Ones

Hey Dad,

This is going to be short…because it’s Sunday and no one is going to read a Sunday post. Dragging a bit today. Last night we went to a local “Bethlehem walk” because my daughter Katherine was in it. For a tiny little town it’s a big deal. So big, in fact, that we waited 3 ½ in a packed high school gym until it was our turn.

You read that right, 3 ½ hours of listening to some hard-on-the-ears, blue grass band made up of old guys and a few out of tune ladies. No one should have to wait that long for anything…except an organ transplant.

We were finally called and got on the bus for a quick trip to the site. It was warm but windy and rainy. My wife, glass half empty kind of gal, complained and laughed the whole way. In fact, for having such a bad attitude she made it so much fun.

By the end of the little Christmas event we had been at it for SIX hours.

OK, here’s the point: I know we’ll never forget that night. We won’t remember what we saw or the spiritual point, but we’ll never forget the eternally long wait and how much ‘mom’ hated the whole thing.

That my fellow, dad…is why we do things like that. It’s not about the good memories…but the bad. In fact, I know this powerful truth – The bad memories become the best memories.

So let me encourage you to find a local Bethlehem Walk, a caroling fest, or a Christmas light display and take the whole family. If you’re lucky, you’ll have a great time…if you’re luckier you’ll have a lousy time…but your kids will never forget it.

Bundle up and don’t forget, you ‘da dad,

Todd