Making Memories That Last

CHRISTMAS VACATION, SENIOR YEAR, 1972. Not far away, in Independence, Missouri, Harry Truman lay in state. Just as I reached for the phone, it rang, and my best buddy said: "are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I was. Mom, a third shift nurse, was getting ready for work, about ten fifteen. I said: "mom, Dennie and I are gonna drive up to Independence to pay our respects to President Truman. Is that OK?" She replied: "if you're wanting to see a casket, I can take you down to the mortuary here in town, and show yo plenty."....."That won't do, mom. whatever casket you show me won't have Harry Truman in it." Mom knew she was licked. We got to the Truman Library about two A.M., and the line was several blocks long, in sub freezing weather. By the time we got in, we were frozen, but filled with wonder and awe. The casket, draped in an American flag, was elevated high, and the four service honor guard frozen in respect. the line moved slowly, but steadily at a casual strolling pace. We only had about five minutes inside, after waiting over two hours in line. It was worth it. Dennie pulled out his camera, clicked it, but the flash cube (this was 1972) didn't go off. He tried another, no go. We left picture-less, and got home about sunup. I've always wondered what the photos would have looked like, probably not much; in those days, pictures were always a little disappointing, the images seeming farther away than in real life. but the memory is the thing. The close I get to my nursing home, as step I hope to bypass, the more I realize that, at the end of our days, we have only memories, and that the important thing is to make 'em so that they count later.---------WE ACCEPT CREATIVE WRITING CONTRIBUTIONS. THANKS!