Just eat the berries

The change and upheaval in our lives over the last 18 months have caused Tammy and me to reflect deeply on the most important things in life. The loss of my sister Koreen’s home of more than 25 years to a house fire (Detailed in this space in our June 21 issue) has only served to intensify those ruminations. 
As I mentioned then, a loss of that magnitude underscores the truth that the material things we surround ourselves with are just that...things. It’s the people with whom we live life and the memories we share that are all that truly matters in the end.
After all, no one on his death bed ever looks back upon his life and says “I wish I would have spent a little more time at the office” or “If only I had acquired a little more money!” 
It is often said that children spell love t-i-m-e, meaning that kids aren’t so much concerned about what we call “quality” time with their parents and grandparents, as they are the amount of time they spend in our presence which helps them feel loved, valued and secure.
Some of my fondest memories of my own parents from my growing up years have to do with their gifts of time, such as my dad making willow whistles at picnics and building not one but two magnificent tree houses for us or my mom reading novels to us at bedtime, one chapter at a time. How I would love to hear her read to me again and I wouldn’t even tease her, as we did back then, when she got choked up and shed tears over the emotional parts. 
At the same time, it wasn’t so much that our parents were doing something with us that was so important, but that they were accessible and available when we needed them. 
One of the things I want to keep in mind in the days ahead is that those special moments that create lasting memories don’t always have to have a structure or a point or a goal or a mission. Sometimes they won’t even make practical sense, but to a child they may mean the world and become lifelong cherished memories.
That point was brought home to me last year when Koreen sent me the following bit of prose she had written about “A fine day in June.” I’m reprinting it below with her permission:
“It was truly a fine morning; one of the finest we’d had so far in June. The temperature was pleasant and the humidity hadn’t made its appearance yet. The sun was shining happily and there was a breeze to bless us.
Our daughter and her two little boys were hanging out for the morning while their van was being worked on. The boys noticed some ripe black raspberries in the yard, so we went on a hunt, picking berries (and eating some, of course) on this wonderful morning. We had wandered to all the known patches in the yard and had about half a quart of sparkling berries in our box. We were meandering back toward the house and my mind was thinking, “This will make a good start on my collection of berries for the freezer!” when James (the 6-year-old) said, ‘Grandma, we should sit on this log and eat the berries.’
I looked at him rather dumbfounded while my mind was sputtering, ‘but, but, but...’ and lamely trying to convince my heart of the preposterousness of just sitting down and eating all those berries we had just picked.
What about the freezer? How outlandish! Just eat the berries. How extravagant! Look at those pleading blue eyes. Then before my mind could stop it, my traitorous heart said, ‘What a great idea!’
And it was!
There we were – four bumps on the log – gorging ourselves on those delicious berries, smiling and smacking our way through the whole box!
The freezer won’t notice one less box of berries, but I will remember and cherish that fine morning in June, our purple smiles and our empty box forever!”
All this is not to say that we should be like the grasshopper in the fable, living only for the moment and failing to plan and prepare for an uncertain future. (After all, that’s why we buy insurance!) But at the same time we must never let worries about the future spoil the joys of the moment and we should never let possessions take precedence over people. 
As an epilogue to this story and in confirmation of the rightness of her decision in that moment over a year ago, Koreen shared with me recently that other berries she had picked later in the summer and stored in the freezer for some future use had perished in the fire -- another reminder to just eat the berries and make the memories. 
RON BURTZ can be reached at newsregister@hamilton.net