ACROSS THE BOARD

Making memories

Ibefore we had kids, my wife and I were sitting around talking about some good friends of ours and their kids. It seemed that every weekend they were on the move with trips, excursions or sports. Anytime we asked them about why they didn’t just take a rest once in a while, they simply responded, “We’re making memories.” We would always look at each other and shrug our shoulders in confusion.

I have many memories from my childhood and I’d rather forget them all. My wife also has many memories, but they are what I would call “traditional”—a play session in the backyard, a funny situation that happened during family dinner, or a major event in life. As I entered my adult life, things quickly changed. While technically I remember a lot of that time, none came from the deliberate act of “making memories.” In fact, I wouldn’t be sad if I forgot most of it.

Once we had kids, we thought more about making memories for the kids and our family. Our schedule started filling with camping trips and the mini adventures that we thought a childhood should be filled with. In a social media-like strategy, I suppose we are crafting what we want our children to recollect someday as a testimony to what great parents we were.

As I read what I’ve written, that sounds like regret. It isn’t. I don’t have regrets in life, am proud of what I’ve done and appreciate having learned from my hardships. But as we grow older, we become more aware of our mortality and things like our legacy. I consider what I will think about in my final years and whether, in that wisdom, will I smile or frown? Those that are left behind, will they smile or frown in thinking about me?

I thought about this recently as a close group of friends offered an invite to me. It was a simple invitation that caused me to think far more than it should have. “Come with us to Pebble Beach for the weekend to play golf.” And there it was and the curse of being me took off should I take a weekend away from the family just for me That felt selfish. If I’m going to a five-star resort, it should be with my wife, not the group of savages who invited me! It felt excessive… I don’t need to play somewhere that charges that much just for a round of golf!

But, peer pressure and a wonderful spouse got the better of me and we were on our way. Those who know me claim I have only “one speed,” that I’m pretty “neutral,” always aware, and always thinking. That quickly changed. As we drove up the coast, jokes, stories and banter had me laughing more than I can ever remember. We pulled into Pebble

Patrick S. Adams

Publisher/President padams@526mediagroup.com Beach and reality hit me square in the jaw—I’m about to play Pebble Beach! Before I knew it, I had played Spyglass and Pebble Beach, and we were on our way home.

The drive back was more quiet and thoughtful. I thought that this was something I would NEVER forget. The beauty and history were indescribable. Every shot I made felt as if I had to make it count because it was important. Sharing this with true friends is what made this experience a memory rather than just a round of golf. That was when I was flooded with the power of it all. How fortunate I am to have a wife who encouraged me to do this, friends who bullied me into it, the health to be able to do it, and the means to be able to have this experience.

While some may think this was memorable because of the cost, it wasn’t. It was the experience, and the emotion of it all. It was sharing that experience with a group of people I care about. It was the peace of knowing that those who love me truly wanted me to do because they care about me. I thought about all of this a lot on the drive back.

As much as we are consumed with investing in our education, our business, our career, and our retirement, we also need to invest in making memories. Not simply for the memory itself, but in what it does to you as a person. I came back not just happy, but was reminded of how incredibly grateful I am for the life I have. I came back a slightly better version of myself because of those memories of a weekend.

So, stop what you’re doing. Think about the first thing that comes to mind after reading this, and then go do it! While there will always be a million good reasons to not do something, being able to make a meaningful memory should be reason enough to do it anyway. As the markets remain strong and things slowly return to this new version of normal, I hope happy memories find you soon.