Memories

I turned 50 last month. As I’ve approached this milestone, I’ve found myself reminiscing more than usual. Just about anything can trigger a memory from my past. These moments are surprisingly clear. It’s as if I’m traveling back in time.

One of my recent moments of reminiscing came while attending the Tennessee – Kentucky football game. As I sat in Neyland Stadium, with my wife and friends, enjoying a perfect East Tennesseefall afternoon, it was as if I was 12 years old again watching the game with my Mom, Dad, and brothers. Instead of brushing off the memory, I embraced it. I recalled that our seats were two rows from the top and the sense of dizziness that overtook me as we marched towards the VOLS sign standing guard in the South end zone. I remember the smell of hot buttered popcorn in the air and the all-encompassing sound of the Pride of the Southland band as they played “Rocky Top” throughout the stadium. It amazed me how I could so intensely remember small moments, like high-fiving my brothers after a UT touchdown or the look of pride on my Dad’s face as he ushered his three young boys into the stadium.

Another memory was triggered recently as I was splitting wood. Lots of middle age men in East Tennessee have fond memories of Tennessee football games (minus the last decade or so), but splitting wood? As strange as it seems, I enjoy splitting and stacking wood. I hated it as a kid because I had to do it. Now I do it because it slows me down and serves as a time to think. As I got lost in the steady rhythm of splitting wood recently, another memory from my childhood came rushing back. The scene that I was dropped into this time was different than the football game memory, but in many ways the same. It was fall again, and I was with my Dad and brothers in the rolling hills of Morgan County, surrounded by large oak trees that were slowly beginning to show their autumn colors. I could hear the whine of the chainsaw running as we worked purposefully towards turning the timber into usable firewood. I could smell the freshly cut wood, feel the cool temperature on my skin even as the work warmed me, and I can vividly recall the feeling of shared purpose and comfort that came from being with my Dad and my brothers. I was 14 again for just a moment, and it felt good.

I don’t remember if the UT game I attended with my family years ago was a big game. I don’t even remember who won. I don’t remember how many loads of firewood we hauled out of the woods that day or if my brothers and I got in trouble for being “mischievous” like we did so many other times. Maybe I’m being overly sentimental, or perhaps strangely, I’m chasing my childhood with these memories. I don’t know. But I do know that memories are important and that I cherish mine.

One thing that struck me from all of this reminiscing was that the memories didn’t involve things, they revolved around people that I love and the time I spent with them. The bonds I have with my family and friends were strengthened by their biggest investment in me, their time. Now that I’m entering the “second half” of my life, my challenge is to boldly invest in those I love with the same intentionality as many have done with me.

What memories are you making? How are you investing your time? How will life change for you once we head out of this pandemic and you have the ability to invest in those who are most important to you? These are the things worth planning for and even more importantly, living for.

Chris Kittrell is a Principal with Rather & Kittrell.